Code Geass: The Breaking of the Lamperouges
by Honore - Form. MerlintoVivian
Summary: Before there was Zero, two royal siblings were broken - their destinies forever changed. Come and see a branched story in the vast expanse of multiple possibilities.
1. SubPhase 1: A Branch Diverges

I do not own Code Geass or any of Sunrise's products

* * *

The sky is blood-red, heralding the end of day and the start of night. Beneath this sky, three figures can be seen: two boys and a girl in the wheelchair. One of the boys, with curly brown hair, turns towards the other two.

"When you say "dead", are you talking about yourselves?", the boy asks.

The other boy, black-haired and wearing a look of resignation, replies, "That's not all. We might have to change our names too. We have to hide ourselves from Britannia for now. There is a chance that Nunnally and myself will be used as pawns again. I can't allow that."

The first boy stoops to sit on a nearby rock. He puts the bag which he had been carrying with him on the ground. "Are you two planning to live by yourselves?" The other gives no answer. He shifts his gaze to the girl in the wheelchair and asks, "Nunnally?"

"I'm satisfied as long as I'm with _nii-sama_.", the blind, blond-haired girl replies.

There is silence. If one were to look on this scene, one might assume that these three were the closest of friends. Yet there is a feeling of tension in the late summer air, of a deep-seated emotion of regretful farewells.

It is the black-haired boy who breaks the silence. "Everything's ready. The Ashfords will be arriving soon."

"You mentioned it before...that that family is your ally? But then-"

"I don't intend to trust them completely," the other interrupts. "We will just make use of them for the moment. Besides," he continues with a wry expression, "the Ashfords only regard us as insurance."

"By insurance, you mean..."

The black-haired boy looks away. "They have their own problems..."

The other boy's glance returns to the ground. "Well, I know well that you can figure it out...", he sighs.

"Yeah," the other answers in a firm voice.

Sweet little Nunnally speaks up. "What about you Suzaku-san? What are you planning to do?"

The black-haired boy shifts uneasily. "Your master, Tohdoh, wasn't that his name? Will he be the one to look after you?"

The other boy picks up a pebble from the ground. "I wasn't able to contact sensei...and Kirihara-san went to central headquarters...I think..."

"Central headquarters - you mean the Britannian's?," the boy's eyes widen, realizing the implication.

"It can't be helped," the other sighs sadly. "Kyoto has agreed to support Britannia."

"What about the Sumeragis?"

"Kaguya is the only successor left of the house."

The girl lowers her head. "Suzaku-san..." Smiling, the sitting boy mutters, "I'll be fine. Look, the situation is very dangerous right now, it's best to seek protection." He tosses aside the pebble. "After all, I'm a child of the Kururugi house." He looks at the two again.

"Is that so? I guess that's right...", the raven-haired boy mutters in turn. The other boy nods grimly. There is another silence among the three, with only the sounds of the cicadas chirping in the late summer air to be heard.

The brown-haired boy stands up and started to walk away from the other two. His current emotions were that of sadness and regret. Sadness, that their short and joyful summer was coming to a close; and regret, for the inexcusable thing he himself had done to cause it. Suzaku Kururugi struggled to find a meaning to his worthless self.(as he perceived himself to be)

"Suzaku-san." Nunnally calls out to the boy, who stops and looks back at the two. She raises her arms, "Please give me your hand."

Puzzled, the boy walks back to the two, and grasps one of Nunnally's hands. "What is it, Nunnally?," he asks hoarsely.

The blind girl firmly grasps the boy's hands with both of hers. "Please don't forget. My mother once told me, 'One day, a helping hand will reach out for you.'" The girl smiles brightly at the boy.

The feelings of sadness within the boy threatens to swallow him then, and it took all he had to stop from breaking down in tears on the spot. Instead, Suzaku gave the former Imperial princess a grateful smile. "Thank you, Nunnally," he whispers.

The girl holds the twined hands to her face. "Until we meet again, Suzaku-san."

"Yeah," the boy replies, holding his hand out to the girl's face. The girl giggles softly. The sight of the girl's joy stirs something within Suzaku. "Please take care of yourselves before then, Nunnally."

The two slowly take their leave, the black-haired boy guiding the wheelchair in a direction opposite to where Suzaku was going. Suzaku, after taking a final glance at the two, turned to stare at the setting sun framed in the horizon. He was then bitterly reminded of his country's own flag.

_It's my own damn fault. It's my own fault that I'll never see them again_, he thinks to himself. _I'm just a useless little hindrance. Because of me, Nunnally and L-_

"Suzaku."

Startled, the boy turns his head. The black-haired boy had come back, and was looking at him with a forlorn expression.

"Lelouch! What-"

"Suzaku," the boy repeats. The boy's face starts to distort, transforming its normally handsome features into an ugly expression of fury. "I will...DESTROY BRITANNIA!!" The boy shouts, surprising Suzaku. In that moment, wrathful amethyst met confused emerald, and for the two, the both of them knew, something dangerous and potent had been kindled.

* * *

The next day, after a frugal breakfast, the two former Imperial heirs, Lelouch vi Britannia and Nunnally vi Britannia, headed to the place where their "benefactors" would soon be arriving at. The younger sibling, Nunnally recalled their last meeting with Suzaku yesterday, and the memory nearly brought tears to their eyes. _Why must our happiness always be short-lived?_ she furiously thinks to herself. Her heart was filled with resentment for whatever force had made them lose all the precious happy times, but she took care not to show her inner thoughts to her brother.

"_Nii-sama_."

"Yes, Nunnally?" Lelouch looks down at his sister. He had been mulling over the issue that was the Ashfords, their supposed "protectors" in the troubled time, and was thinking up counter-measures should they prove uncooperative in the future.

"Our names, will we really have to change our names?"

"Yeah, we have to. It's the only way that Britannia won't be able to discover us. But don't worry, I'll still be Lelouch and you'll still be Nunnally." He pats his sister on the head.

"I see. Lamperouge...is it..."

"Don't worry, Nunnally. We don't need that filthy last name anymore. We don't want to be associated with-"

A loud, booming sound interrupts his ravings. It is the arrival of the Ashfords' aircraft. It was a curious little vehicle, more of a military jet than anything, as evidenced by the transport hub, as Lelouch surmised. Strangely however, as noted by the youth, it was not holding any sort of Britannian marking or insignia, instead there was a single symbol shaped like a bird taking flight embedded on the jet's frame.

Lelouch narrowed his eyes in suspicion, tightening his hold on his sister's wheelchair. _If this was someone from his family, then-_

His suspicions were confirmed when heavily armed men started to descend from the transport hub. Thinking quickly (as he had already somehow foreseen this event), he turned his sister's chair and crouched as he began to carry Nunnally on his back.

"_Nii-sama_, what-"

"Nunnally, we have to go, NOW! It's a trap, the Ashfords, those BASTARDS, have-"

Behind them, they heard the shouts of the men, who seemed to have identified the royals. Lelouch, holding on tightly to his sister, started to run carrying his burden back the way they had come that morning. The blood rushed to his limbs, his panic granting him the adrenaline he needed get a headstart on their pursuers.

Inside his head, Lelouch started to think nonstop on contingency plans for the aftermath of the chase, yet nothing seemed to conclude completely in his thoughts, distracted as he was by the chase. _Damn those Ashfords, damn them!_

Their pursuers hurried footsteps seemed to be growing closer. Barely a minute after he had started running, Lelouch was again afflicted by the curse of his weak constitution, causing him to pant heavily and his pace to gradually slow down.

Nunnally was not oblivious to this development in her brother, and she whispered, "_Nii-sama_, please let me down."

"NO!," Lelouch panted, sweating profusely. Nunnally could hear her brother's tachycardic heartbeat, and knew that he was almost at his limit.

"Please, _nii-sama_. I can take care of myself. I know that they won't hurt me...", she had started to loosen her hold on her brother's neck.

"NO! Nunnally! I...will...not..let..", he was visibly starting to slow down now, and their pursuers had already nearly closed the distance. "I...promised myself...when I faced...father...after..." He tightened his grip on his sister's legs. "I will NOT LET YOU GO!"

He seemed to have gotten a slight burst at this point, and he seemed to have picked up speed. However, the little exchange between the siblings would cost them dearly, as Lelouch could no longer pay attention to the path before him.

When he focused again, his heart seemed to threaten to drop to his stomach. There, a cordon of soldiers had established themselves, pointing their menacing weapons at them. _They flanked us, I should have known! This terrain, I should have studied it better beforehand! But how was I supposed to know-_

The soldiers behind had closed in on them as well, forming a semi-circular barrier around the two, yet somehow maintaining their distance. Lelouch fell to his knees, exhausted to the point of unconsciousness, and was forced to place Nunnally on the ground. He collapsed headfirst into the ground, still breathing heavily.

The girl, blind as she was, panicked, and searched around for her brother's body. Finding it, she mustered the strength to pull him close, and placed his head on her lap. "Nii-sama," she sobbed.

Lelouch, in between gasps, said, "I'm sorry...I'm so weak, so stupid..." The boy could not even find the strength to lift a hand to console his sibling.

His gaze found the masked soldiers, their rifles still trained on them. Was this a private execution? Was one of their esteemed siblings removing a possible claimant to the throne? Was the Emperor himself the one who gave the order, having finally decided to follow through on the fact that they were "dead" to him? Lelouch could only rage against this development, remembering his promise to Suzaku yesterday. Suzaku...

Suddenly , the soldiers lowered their weapons. Lelouch saw a gap form within the circle, and narrowed his eyes at the figure that walked casually through the gap.

It looked like a young boy their age, with hair blonde and long, extending down his back. It was dressed in regal robes, elegantly designed. The figure strolled casually to the siblings in the center of the circle, giving the two an appraising look.

Nunnally, hearing his footsteps, waited with apprehension. Lelouch could only glare at the "boy". The figure seemed to spend minutes looking at the two, when suddenly, he gestured to the soldiers surrounding them.

In an instant, some of the soldiers stepped forward, bringing gags and other restraining devices with them. Realizing their intent, Lelouch struggled to rise, but all he could accomplish was rising to a sitting position before he was roughly seized by strong hands and restrained.

"Who are you? LET ME GO! Nunnally!!" He struggled like a wild animal, reaching out with for his sister. His arm nearly broke from the attempt, as his limbs were forcibly bound tight by metal chains.

"Nii-sama!"

"Who are you?! If you are working for the Britannians, I'll have you know-"

"Lelouch vi Brittania." The figure suddenly spoke, regarding the youth with an impassive look. An eyebrow rose. "You are dead, are you not? Both you and your sibling. You were supposed to be dead, as the Emperor said. I am only here to collect and...make use of the unfortunate remains of his lamented spawn." He raised his hand. "Rest assured, I will be making good use of your 'corpses'."

"Mmmmppph!!!" The boy and the girl had been gagged and bound in constricting vests. The last thing Lelouch saw before he saw darkness was the boy smiling softly.

"As to who I am, well, you can call me uncle, if you wish. Though I imagine this will be the last time you will see me in this world."

* * *

Progress Notes:  
The subjects have just arrived. One is uncooperative. Had to use high-grade anesthetics to pacify.  
Am worried if boss will be angry for slightly spoiling his meat. Will exclude it from report.  
Official report. Also, the sakuradite that Dr. Aiyme demanded all week. Also just arrived.  
I believe she will be ecstatic. However, I believe euphoria will be short-lived, if Dr. Valdez is to be an indication.

Dr. F.F.P.


	2. SubPhase 2: The Prince Defiant

The man exited the room, pausing slightly as he dried the sweaty skin of his forearms with a towel. He absentmindedly scratched his pronounced bulge that seemed to threaten to burst forth from his constricting lab coat, which he tried to adjust ever so often. He then started down the bleak, white-painted corridor, swinging his massive arms.

As he turned the corner, he pulled out a datapad from his pocket on which he input in a few strings. He passed by numerous steel doors along the hallway, each marked by a strange symbol. A thought seemed to occur to the man, and he double-backed to a door he had just passed. He pressed the call-button outside and said in a rumbling voice, "It's Portland, Duran. I have something to clarify with you." Without waiting for a reply, he entered the room through a sliding door.

Inside was a vast array of tubes and wires, interconnecting at points. Almost all were connected to some sort of device. In the midst of everything crouched a man, fiddling with some of the wires.

"Mr. Portland is it?", a high voice chirped. "What does the bi- what does the Boss want with poor blind ol' me?"

Charles Augustus Portland, Executive Head of the Lamperouge Project, harrumphed and thrust his hand to pull the other man up by his coat. "I'm in a hurry, Duran. This 'miracle' invention of yours can wait."

"Careful! Not the coat! The coat! Where is that thing...", Duran fumbled for a stick that leaned on the wall. He brushed himself free from the bigger man's grasp and adjusted the black glasses he wore on his head. "Well what is it, Boss?", he asked, thrusting his walking stick forward.

"I'm right here," said the voice to his left. "Just a slight...clarification if you will." Duran felt the other man's presence move closer. "This 'invention' of yours, how soon can it start trial runs?"

"As soon as can possibly be, Mr. Breaker sir!", Duran chortled. "All these you can see here," the blind man gestured around the room, "will constitute the mainframe of the system. As long as we have somewhere cool enough to embed it in, even I can test it out!"

"That is not your duty, Duran, as you well know."

"Of course not, yes, yes I jest, all for the project am I right? Still with this marvelous system I created, I, Rimes Duran, will finally be able to - ", he was stopped by a hand which had clamped around the blind man's mouth.

"That will be all, Duran," the voice said in a dangerous tone. "In truth, you have as much time as you can possibly want fine-tuning the system - no, perfecting it! But ensure that on your end, by the time the subject is ready to use this system of yours, that no screw-ups arise! I do not tolerate failures." Having finished, the other man released his grip.

Portland stepped towards the door. As it slid to open, the blind scientist said, "How are those little chicks coming along, if I may ask?"

The big man paused, his body framed by the open doorway. "They are as freshly ripened fruits - ready," the man's eyes gleamed sadistically, "for the plucking. They will be very pliable in my hands. In a word, Rimes Duran," the man concluded , "they are the best I could ask for, and they shall be PERFECT, after I am through."

"Even the younger one?"

Portland said nothing as the door slid shut behind him.

_Charles Augustus Portland_, the blind man thinks to himself. _Nicknamed the "Innocence Breaker", the most infamous child training instructor in the world, yet unknown to even the Emperor of Britannia himself. Now it seems he has found new toys again...I can't help but pity those two._

"But then again," the blind man says, "if it weren't for this project, I would not have been able to start building this new system." The man presses a nearby button, which seems to give the room life. The wires light up as the devices hum to life. A violet glow suffuses the room, illuminating up the man's joyful features as he places one of the devices on top of his head.

"My precious Mind's Eye..." Rimes Duran laughs as he glimpses once again the bright images that have astonishingly pierced through his disability.

* * *

Lelouch jolts awake, staring at the bare wall that first meets his gaze. He finds himself lying on the cold floor of a medium-sized four-by-four room, and stretches his sore limbs as he sits up.

Grimacing, the youth recalls that first encounter he had with the so-called "Master" of this forsaken place. No, what he vividly remembers was him, struggling to overcome the towering monstrosity with his body, only to receive a powerful punch that knocked all the wind out of the boy, rendering him unconscious.

He holds a hand to the place where he had been hit, wincing at the remaining dull pain. Only rarely before had the former prince experienced physical violence, and even then, the pain was only vindicated by his own gratifying retaliations. Euphemia and Nunnally would even-

_Nunnally!_

Lelouch's mind started to race. _Where was Nunnally? What could those bastards have done to her?_ Such questions revolved around the boy's mind as he furiously beat on the door to his room.

"Nunnally...", the boy sobbed. _I'm sorry. I'm a failure of a brother. I'm so, so sorry..._

Unexpectedly, the door slides open, and a powerful kick sends the boy sprawling across the room to slam against the opposite wall. Gritting his teeth in fury, Lelouch sees the massive man again, staring down greedily at him. The boy attempts to charge, but is instantly held down by two pairs of hands belonging to soldiers whom he had not seen at first.

"WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS THIS PLACE? WHERE'S NUNNALLY-", the boy was silenced by an anesthetic gun which had been thrust against his neck. His glazed eyes never lost their anger towards the giant figure reflected in them.

_Nunnally..._

* * *

Nunnally stirs awake, faintly aware of a distant humming. Taking a moment to adjust to consciousness, she sharpens her senses to take stock of her situation. She was apparently sitting on a chair of some sort. The room smelled strange - odorless, a far cry from Japan's crisp summer air or the sweet-smelling multitude of the palace gardens.

The girl recalls. The last thing she could remember before losing consciousness was the sound of his brother calling her name. She recalled painfully how they were restrained and separated.

"_Nii-sama_..."

She attempted to raise her hand to her chest, but found that her hands her restrained. She tests the bonds, finding that it was very firmly wrapped around her body. She flinched before she relaxing herself, taking the situation in calmly once more.

After some time, she hears the sound nearby of what she thinks is a door sliding open, and she turns her head to where she thought the door was.

"May I ask where I am?", she inquires of the presence that she felt walk through the doorway.

Hearing no answer, she further asked, "Who are you? Do you have business with me and my brother? We would have cooperated with you easily, you didn't have to hurt brother-"

"Silence, girl.", a voice rumbled. She fell silent, intimidated by the loud voice.

The humming in the room seemed to increase in volume, which grated on Nunnally's ears.

"What is important for you to know, little girl," the voice continued, "is that you and your brother are DEAD, dead to the world that you once knew. You have been cast aside by the cruelties of fate and life, and here you both are: living dolls, fit for reshaping."

Nunnally does not understand, she is too frightened at the tone that the voice held. "I don't understand, why are you doing this to us, to _nii-sama_?", she asks hoarsely.

The presence circled her now, breathing fast. "Little girl, do you want to know about your brother's whereabouts?"

A moment's heartbeat. "Yes please! I need to know that _nii-sama _is safe!"

"Well then," the voice moves closer. "If you do whatever I want, you will be able to see him anytime, anywhere." She thought she could hear a distinct click behind her ear, but she ignores it as she digests what the man was telling her.

"Whatever...? What am I supposed to do? Please," the girl started to struggle again, "I'll do anything, please bring _nii-sama_ here! Please let us go!"

"Well then little girl, you shall start by calling me 'Master'.", the presence stopped circling. The girl didn't seem to hear, as she continued to struggle hard against her restraints in a fierce tantrum. "NO! NO! Bring _nii-sama here, _I need my brother!! Please!! No more talks, no more tests! I'll be good-"

The presence seemed to have had enough, as he shouted, "Silence girl!" and a new sound assaulted Nunnally's ears.

The girl stops struggling, slowly, she realizes exactly what she seemed to be hearing now. It is the sound of her brother seemingly being put in extreme pain. His cries of agony were interspersed with (what she assumed) buzzing sounds, and her heart nearly broke from this. _What is this...nii-sama?_

"Please...", the girl said now in a defeated tone. "Let _nii-sama_ go, I promise...I promise I'll do anything." The girl raised her head towards the presence. "I will do anything you ask me, master. Just please," she started to cry now, "Don't hurt nii-sama anymore..."

"It is good to see that you are a good girl. But then," a hand grabs her face forcefully. "There will be no more tears out of you." Nunnally chokes silent, stopping the tears from flowing, but they gather regardless. "You will follow what is set before you closely, little girl. Fail even once, and your dear brother will pay the price...." The sounds of her brother being tortured stop, and silence followed the presence as it lets go of her face and exits out the door.

When she heard the door close, Nunnally broke down, sobbing uncontrollably, releasing the held back flood. Her heart went out to her brother that she had to protect, that she had to do anything to keep safe. It was a reversal of their roles, and Nunnally realized that she would have to take care of her dear brother from now on.

Abruptly, the voice seemed to return, but it sounded like it came from above. "I am always watching you little girl, and I see that you broke my orders again. You realize the penalty for disobeying me, do you?" The sounds of her brother being tortured returns again. Desperate, Nunnally screams for it to stop, saying that she won't do it again, begging for her brother's release. When the sounds stop for the second time, the voice coldly states: "Humans are weak creatures, little girl. That is your first lesson. Anytime you are compelled to disobey me again in the future, know that your brother, not you, will have to pay the consequences."

Nunnally vi Britannia, formerly the 11th Princess of the Holy Britannian Empire, silenced her heart in despair for her brother's sake as she mumbles her response, "Yes...master..."

* * *

"So you mean to train me to be your pet, mongrel? You will not exact obedience from me no matter what you try! I will rather die than be anyone's slave!" The proud voice of Lelouch vi Britannia boomed out in the small room.

Lelouch had reawoken to find himself strapped to a chair in a dim room, with pale light coming from an overhead lamp. The chair was oriented as to face some sort of rectangular glass.

A voice, which he assumed to belong to that of the man's, had called out, explaining his intention for the boy once again. That the boy and his sister were dead to the world, that no one would save them, that they would serve better purpose serving him, the so-called "master" of this place.

Lelouch had raised his eyebrows, despite renouncing his claim to the throne, he still had his pride as a prince; and he was grimly amused at this man's cowardly attempts at forcing subservience. The boy knew that he alone did not have the power to reverse this situation, to break free from this place, wherever this was. But he had also decided that he would simply wait, bide his time, awaiting for the chance to escape - using the many escape plans he had already drawn up in his mind. The thought of escape had served to galvanize the boy's resolve, but he was unaware of the lengths this man would go to bend his victim's will.

"So you would rather die, little boy? How brave of you." (Lelouch snorted, he was also ready for this eventuality.) "But if you do, then who will care for your sister? She is also firmly within my grasp." Lelouch gasped as the space beyond the glass lit up to illuminate what was beyond the room.

Lelouch's features twisted in wrath as he saw his sister being restrained in a manner similar to his condition. _How dare they!? Doing this to Nunnally, that bastard...!_

"If you die, then we will have to ask for her cooperation instead. I'm sure she will have some sort of use to us - her disabilites aside."

"NO!", the boy screamed. "Not Nunnally, dont touch my sister you bastard!" The boy started to struggle in his restraints, glaring daggers everywhere. _The lengths these bastards would go to! They would pay!_

"However, we have more use for you, boy, " the voice continued. "You possess a remarkable intellect that, applied in the right place, would become an unstoppable weapon in any man's hands. If you were to simply acquiesce to my will, then your precious sister will not come to harm. She will be kept safe somewhere here, and I shall give you permission to talk with her occasionally."

The boy didn't seem to hear, as he kept on struggling, shouting threats and insults, uttering screams as his voice grew steadily hoarser. It seemed that all the boy's attention had been turned to his sister.

"BOY!" The voice boomed. "If you will not obey me, then I will be forced to act! But you will not be the one to suffer!" Lelouch was startled to see a thin drill activate behind Nunnally's head, and screamed as he watched it slowly move towards his sister's head.

"STOP IT! NOT NUNNALLY, YOU BASTARD! STOP-" The drill moved ever closer, and Lelouch saw that his sister seemed to have realized her danger, and was struggling in her chair. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he reined in his emotions, shouting grudgingly, "Stop...this..." His eyes took on determination as he glared at the drill, willing it to stop in its slow quest for his sister's head. "I'll do it...Don't hurt Nunnally, just...I'll be a pawn...just keep her safe..."

The boy bowed his head in defeat. Faced with the knowledge of failing his sister again, his plans of escape seemed to dissolve in his mind, acknowledging that he could do nothing as long as Nunnally was held hostage. _Someday, Nunnally, someday..._.Lelouch looked up to watch as the lights in the other room dimmed, obscuring his sight of Nunnally. The drill had paused in midair, deactivated. _Someday, I...._

"Now then boy." The voice had returned. "You will start by calling me 'Master'."

"What did you say?" The tone of defiance had re-entered the boy once again. "I agreed to be your puppet, but not to be your pet."

"Boy, boy, if you will not obey simple commands such as these, then how can I know if you will continue to obey me? And to remind you of the price of disobedience," The lights were relit in the other room, and Lelouch watched in horror as the drill restarted.

Lelouch screamed at them to stop, pledging greater obedience through gritted teeth. His heart slowly fell to despair as he realized just how greatly the voice had exerted its control over him, over Nunnally. _Nunnally, I'm sorry...I failed you again...I failed as a brother... _Dimly the boy recalled a sunset scene which for him seemed to have occured a lifetime ago, of a promise which he realized he would never be able to fulfill.

And the hatred within Lelouch vi Britannia, former 11th prince of the Holy Empire of Britannia, settled into fiery embers deep within his soul.

* * *

Daily Diary:  
Damn that Valdez! To think I bought his assurances of faith a week ago concerning the sakuradite!  
As it is, I have no way of proving the weasel's theft to Portland. What does he need all those resources for anyway?  
To fuel his always malfunctioning weapon prototypes? That so-called "Smash Harken" of his, does he really intend to deviate from standard, proven design?  
God knows, we still have our hands full fine-tuning the Morgana's drive. If only I could return to the institute, contact some of the old crowd, maybe I could have...but no!  
This is all top-secret as they say. And I doubt those two would not be satisfied with a mere inquiry, they might want to know more about my design intentions too!  
Dr. Rouche Aiyme


	3. SubPhase 3: Casting the Mold

The Innocence Breaker, having finished typing his progress reports for the week, settled into his brown leather chair (made to fit) and took a swig of Bartley's from a large flask. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he stretched his sore arm muscles and settled, exulting in another successful week.

It was months after Portland had fooled the Lamperouges so masterfully into becoming his pawns, and the Project was proceeding exactly according to the comprehensive plan he'd drawn up at the project's infancy.

It had been a simple but effective tactic he had used, to compel even the prideful, intelligent young Lelouch into subservience, and he gloated at his own cunning and skill in bringing it about. He took in the familiar, heady feeling of control that he had felt in every project he had participated in. Yet Portland was quick to suppress this prideful emotion, storing it away in his mind to be perused in a later, less hectic time. He knew the dangers of overstepping his pride.

For in spite of his sloppy exterior and manners, inside, Charles Augustus was a methodical man, allowing objectives to be met concretely and completely. To that end of achieving the Project's aims, he would do anything to ensure that children would be sufficiently broken - drawing upon centuries of time-honed methods in order to do so. Cruelty was his calling card, and that was how he came to be known as the "Innocence Breaker". In the depths of this twisted self, he believed that innocence is a farce, a crude phase which could, in the wrong hands, prove fatal to an individual's future. Able hands must shape and mold these young souls, to serve society as they should.

His abilities earned him both grudging respect and rampant fear in the world's underbelly: respect on the part of those who would use his skills, and fear in those who feared the results of his talents. He would forge assassins, spies, sleeper agents, masterminds and other brutal and skilled operatives of the underworld. His end-products were even now scattered all over the Britannian expanse and their Areas, the European Union, the Chinese Federation and other minor countries. All would not know the name of the towering figure they would always recall in their sleep, preferring instead to seal the memories deep in their changed minds.

A beep alerted the man to a new message in his private terminal, it was the report from Dr. Valdez, as late as ever. That man was proving to be a general hindrance to his plan, deviating it by a slight percent each passing week. Portland was resolved to give one final ultimatum to the head of the Weapons Research Division of this project, a threat to dispose the errant scientist. Once again, Portland wondered idly at this strange assignment he'd taken up, being the head of a such a vast-reaching project.

Portland had instantly jumped at the chance of a new project, having suffered a dry spell of some years because of the backlash that occured from his last project. He was initially struck by the nature of the assignment, heading a so-called Project to transform two children into skilled operatives with the support of Knightmares, thus meaning he would also have to work with a Knightmare research division. He had initially balked at the role he had to play - babysitting engineers and scientists in addition to his main duties, but the idea was so novel to the man that he had accepted in the end.

Bringing up some information on his terminal with a few clicks, he regarded the tidbit about the grand victory parade in Pendragon, Britannia celebrating the creation of Area 11, proving Britannia's strength on one hand, and introducing the new face of warfare on the other, coming in the form of the humanoid machines, the Knightmares. At this stage, the technology pertaining to Knightmares belonged solely to the Britannians, but he had no doubt that it would soon be readily duplicated by the rest of the world.

_Humans cherish survival after all._

Coughing, Portland took another swig of liquor, and continued to reflect. His team was tasked with not only training those imperial brats three levels down, but also in the design and manufacture of a Knightmare frame which was supposed to be some sort of secret weapon that would revolutionize the face of the world. To that end, frequent reports would come in regarding R&D efforts by Britannia and the other countries regarding Knightmares, in order that the project's aim to produce a high-quality Knightmare would be fulfilled.

The Innocence Breaker had never molded pilots before, as they fell far in the opposite spectrum of where he operated, but the clandestine nature of this project fit him quite well. He would leave the technological blabber to the engineers who worked for him, his mind finding it hard to grasp at all the jargons which left him dizzy near the end - thus leaving him to do what he did best: break.

* * *

Dr. Rouche Aiyme, head of the Knightmare Frame Research and Development Division in the secret Lamperouge Project, stormed into the vast shop which housed the vast array of experimental weapons which Dr. Roderick Valdez had developed since the project had begun.

Which would have been "praiseworthy" and "awe-inspiring" to the fuming engineer, except for the fact that most of the armaments here on display were things that Valdez had created and casually tossed aside after manufacture, touted "failures" by the creator.

Aiyme found the man in question, crouching as was his manner over a vast new blueprint which was sprawled on the floor below him. The man seemed to be uttering unintelligible noises as she approached. She stopped behind the man and glared, hands on hips.

At that moment, the man suddenly stood up, hitting the poor woman's face, which caused her to fall backwards with an audible thud. The glasses she had been wearing clattered away, nearly crushed by Valdez's frenzied dash around the shop.

"I have it! I have it! The schematics were deceptively vague! All it needed was a slight adjustment in the feedback mechanism! Brilliant! You there," the prancing scientist pointed at one of the exasperated assistants. "Bring me the old beam-thingy-launcher," the man gestured strangely, "You know, the one I thought up from the 35th episode of Robot Seeders! Chop chop, get to it!"

The man resumed pacing around muttering "Neither will nor strength alone! I shall conquer!!" He paused to regard the trembling frame of Dr. Aiyme, who had finally recovered her glasses, as she slowly rose to her feet. "What is it, you? Have you come to bring news of more sakuradite?"

"YOU TROGGLODITE!", Aiyme slammed her datapad on top of the other's head with powerful force, knocking Valdez facedown on top of the blueprint.

Aiyme panted heavily as she regarded the other, who had recovered into a sitting position. "What's your problem woman?", he said as he tenderly fingered his head.

"What's my problem? Why else would I storm into this god-awful shop except to vent my frustrations on your weird behind!" Aiyme pressed something her datapad, bringing up something on the screen, then thrusted it at Valdez's face.

"The schedule! Our model's initial unveiling is coming up tomorrow, and you have the gall to request more sakuradite again!? What's the matter? How is it so hard to simply pick a conventional weapon and run with it? Why does it have to shoot noisy lights or provide a more aesthetic method of killing?"

"Because then it'd be boring," replied Valdez, as he plucked the datapad from his colleague. He input a few strings and handed it back, having ostentatiously changed the date for the presentation to six months in the future. "Now you go and tell Big Boss how important it is for our subjects to have the best killing tools at his disposal. You should know: he likes to have the best weapons for his 'products'."

"And you also know full well how he's intractable with that plan of his, and how he doesn't tolerate failures," she retorted, grabbing the front of the other's lab coat and lifting the man up. She brought her face close to the man's, "And you also know how we who are involved in the project are easily expendable. If you don't straighten up, you might not be able to create your little toys anymore."

After dumping the man on the floor, Aieyms exited the shop hurriedly, fiddling with her datapad as she went. Dr. Valdez was left sitting cross-legged on top of the blueprint, staring pensively after her. After some time, as his assistants transported the prototype he had requested, he proceeded to tinker with it, a childish grin lighting up his mature face as he did so - muttering incomprehensibly as he worked.

* * *

Lelouch fell back on his bed, feeling exhausted as he had become prone to over the past few months (as he reckoned). Today was another nerve-racking strategic exercise against a supercomputer, and he had extracted another satisfying win from the ordeal. The boy could not afford to fail, as he had learned over the months, for doing so would have subjected Nunnally to that man's sadistic torture.

Yes, Lelouch tiredly mused, this was the sad truth which he faced every day of every week over the past month now. Each morning he would unerringly wake without the aid of an alarm device and report to his door, where he would be transported by an armed troop to his "daily challenge". The challenges would range from day-long lessons on various university-level topics to strategic wartime simulations played against a powerful supercomputer. In every lesson or every game, the voice would exhort perfection, and express its intolerance for failures.

For the first few times that he had started to work as a pawn under the man's direction, he had faced his "challenges" with a distracted air, his thoughts always turning to his sister. After he failed to achieve a perfect score in a Linguistics test however, he would be prodded to work harder as he helplessly watched his sister being prodded by tazers. It took many minutes of humiliating groveling before the torture ended, and Lelouch, with tears welling up, promised perfection in future endeavors.

And so the months continued, with the boy being put through a rigid regime which put his frail body and his sharp intellect to their very limits. There were times when he was cast out into a simulacrum of ahostile environment, where he was forced to survive for 24 hours. (He had barely passed that, he would suffer Nunnally's torture afterwards for his near failure)

Other times, he was presented a "murder case" in which he was to resolve the underlying problem which lurked beneath the homicide. (Many times, it was always a government conspiracy, though there had been a trick session where he'd overthought the "simple" case and had once again suffered Nunnally's pain)

Lelouch would always be driven in his daily challenges with the burning thought of keeping his sister safe, no matter the cost. At times, a stray thought of rebellion against that man would enter unbidden, but he would quickly suppress it, fearing that the man would discover his intentions and act accordingly. For the burdened lad, his sister was his only salvation; in the darkness of this place, Nunnally was his only light.

The next day, Lelouch would be greatly surprised by his new challenge: he was given a manual on Knightmare operations and was informed that he would have to master basic and advanced maneuvers by noon. The boy panicked, the information threatening to overwhelm him as he frantically absorbed them from the thick manual. It was with a desperate heart that he faced the simulation machine, which was supposed to mimic a standard Britannian Glasgow cockpit. His brain seemed to work in hyperdrive as he settled in the seat, sweat dripping in great amounts from his body. He took a deep breath, praying to whatever merciful God there was to get him through this ordeal, for Nunnally to be safe-

Of course he would fail. He had foreseen it from the start, right when he had been given the ridiculous challenge. As he miserably stared at the bright red symbol on the screen which was evidence of his failure, he began to compose a long, earnest entreaty, this time repeating an earlier offer to be the torture victim.

"No. You know full well the price of failure. Even a generous man such as myself has limits, boy. I am beginning to think you don't care enough for your dear little sister. And that is why I shall take the punishment to a new level. Watch closely, boy. This is the sign of your failure."

The boy's screams echoed in the dim room, his sobs likewise echoing down the corridor as he was carried-and shoved back into his room. Lelouch's anguished screams would echo well into the night, but the horrific memory would last a lifetime.

* * *

Nunnally, in turn, spent the last few months in no less stressful circumstances. Faced with the threat of physical harm which might befall her brother, she would seem to do her very best to overcome the challenges that were placed before her.

The week following her acquiescence came as a surprise: she was made to receive experimental cybernetic impants which she was told would breathe life once more into her crippled legs. After the painful, hours-long operation (in which she desperately fought the urge to cry), she was given two weeks for rehabilitation - anymore and the voice promised something dire for her brother.

She recovered in record time, permanently regaining the use of her legs, though she was still deprived of her sight. Daily life with the renewed ability to walk would was vastly superior from before, yet Nunnally knew that it had come with an exorbitant price. She would be reminded of the awful truth of their condition every time she would bend her knees to stand or sit.

All throughout the days she spent afterwards were receiving academic lessons, broaching every subject in the known world. Her 'tests' at the end of every lesson were the terms by which her brother would be judged for the day, the voice had said, and so Nunnally spent each lesson eagerly listening to what the voice in the computer would dictate, desperately retaining as much information as she could.

Slowly, Nunnally began to notice a subtle shift in her lessons. Even her young mind could comprehend the fact that she was made to memorize more technical information, encompassing topics from computerizing systems to mechanized vehicles. She paid little heed to this development for now, as she pushed to excel regardless.

She had suffered only one failure: and that incident would always bring pain to her heart as she recalled the heartbreaking sounds of her brother being tortured. In a trembling, genuflected position, she promised to redouble her efforts, as the voice chided, to prevent such a thing from happening again. The sounds would haunt her nightmares for some time afterward.

Today seemed to be something entirely different for the girl. She sensed that she had been taken to a room with humming sounds, different from what was usual for her. There, a higher voice, different from the one she had been accustomed to hearing, greeted her. What he said next shocked her to the core. She waited in confused silence as she listened to the man's explanations, this time not even caring to absorb the information. _Could this be a dream?_

As she felt something being put on her head, she dimly recalled the earlier years playing at the palace gardens with a painful tinge. As she heard the humming of the machines near her increase in volume, she became gradually aware of something which she assumed to have lost, all this time.

_She could see!_ Dimly, she was able to make out the room around her, with all the wires interconnecting together. Again, she remembered the bright colors in the garden, and was slightly disappointed to see that everything was in a pale black-and-white glow, even the man's face which she found was smiling straight at her. She did not know if she herself was wearing one.

"How...?"

"...The system is still in the process of fine-tuning, there are a few perks which should be worked out, naturally a way must be found to ensure constant usage..."

Nunnally could no longer hear the words being uttered by the man, so engrossed was she in this renewed sight that she was only able to nod uncertainly when the man asked her a question.

_I can see again, I've regained the usage of my legs! But why would they do this? And what was the cost of this blessing? _Nunnally's mind wavered. _Nii-sama..._

_

* * *

_

Entry Log:  
(cough) So I was, uh, visited by that woman from Knightmare design just now, and I can barely suppress my rare emotion of, um, hatred towards that fool. (spit) Because of her antics, I very nearly lost the thread of my ingenious plan: to enhance the uh, Breaker Harkens with a specialized surger device that will spell instant death to the unfortunate pilot caught within the harken's grasp. (panting) However, such a technology seems to be far from gaining its use in reality, and I have not the time nor the resources to pursue research down that field. (random mutterings) The prototype harkens will have to do: I grudgingly accept that the woman had an valid point. I shall also mention the proposal of increasing our sakuradite supplies - almost a week from the latest delivery, and we're already running out. (grunt) I also seem to recall that Duran's own invention would also be given its test run tomorrow. I am mildly excited to hear the results of the man's vision, (laughter) "vision", oh I crack myself up....  
R. Valdez


	4. SubPhase 4: Many Meetings

Tedious though it was, Portland endured the sub-division's technical explanations regarding the other components of the project with diligent passiveness. Although none of the information registered in his mind, he made ample use the time to refresh his impressions about each of the scientists. The useful new tidbits he would file away in the recesses of his mind, ready to be called upon should the situation come to pass.

"More sakuradite? Not possible. Britannia controls much of supply now. Legitimate efforts: too expensive. Underground: still too expensive, and we cannot risk exposure. Other news...Britannia has taken another Area? Becoming more of a world power than it ever. The Chinese Federation has withdrawn from..."

Although that speaker's pathetic, hunched figure told volumes of the man, Portland still found something profoundly sinister within the man's shifting eyes. One of the few surprises he had upon being introduced to the project was this man's role - that of the Head of the General Affairs Division. The division officially managed the inner workings of the Project, from upkeep of the facility to compensation of the miscellaneous personnel. Unofficially, it was the spy network employed by the Project, to keep watch internally and externally. Reports on erratic personnel would be sent to Portland, and the Division would be responsible for disposial. They were also responsible for gathering information, official or clandestine, about the outside world. For now, Portland filed the man's status away as dangerous and unpredictable, for even if the man was efficient in his duties, there was no way he could fully trust a man whose personal information was a damned classified secret even to _him_.

"....it features Omni-directional Landspinners coated with...it allows the Knightmare to scale any solid surface while the system is activated...installation of the Merlin module unfeasible without completion of the Siege Perilous mainframe....overall efficiency from preliminary simulations estimated at 40.12%...a stronger core must be developed to prolong the Knightmare's limited 49 minute operation time...."

Dr. Rouche Aiyme, on the other hand, was a far better card to read. A product of the Britannian Imperial Colchester Institute, the scientist would have been the spitting image of an ice queen from the mountains, had it not been for the reports of hot-headed outbursts. Known to be a maverick engineer even as a student in the Institute, the pure-blooded Britannian had been forced to join the project due to increasing pressure from irate companies back at home which had rejected her proposals and subsequently found themselves at the receiving end of her outrage. As it was, Portland had long decided, the woman would be easy to control - it would only take the effort of pulling her ambitious strings.

On screen, a cone-shape object connected by a wire smashed into the side of a wall, the cone afterward opening in a flower-like form. The wire was then pulled taut like an anchor, and a moment later the wall shattered from the force of the object being pulled back to its origin point. In another presentation, an object similar in design to a Gatling gun was mounted on a platform. After a few moments, the gun roared to life, spraying a hail of bullets on a sample of thick concrete wall. After 3 seconds of firing, the settling dust revealed a heap of slag where the wall had been.

Portland watched the scientist known as Valdez hobble back to his seat. This man, to Portland, was on the outside quite easy to read. The pale man's perpetually bloodshot eyes and unkempt brown hair was a good indication of his character, but it was the man's reputation as an arms fanatic which truly gave justice to the man. The man's obsession with newer and more exotic ways to kill reflected even in his private quarters, where Portland once glimpsed aisles upon aisles of ancient weapons on display.

During the report, Portland had seen past all the technical gobbledygook to the man's own brazen attitude of twisted excitement in presenting his artifices - similar to the way he himself would point to one of his finished products and gloat. Yet the man, infuriatingly, worked at his own pace: a dangerous variable in the Breaker's rigid plan and hence, a constant headache to be constantly managed every damned day of the week. Despite numerous warnings from the latter, Valdez would simply plod along with his inventions, only concerning himself with the boss should an issue with the sakuradite (there was always an issue with the sakuradite) arise - else, the man would spend every hour of his life crafting with his assistants._ A mad genius_, Portland thought. _A type like that would always be out of place in any joint collaboration._

The last briefing from Dr. Rimes Duran was without a visual presentation, owing to the man's special condition. As head of the First Special Division tasked with managing the creation of the "Mind's Eye" System, the man had requested to have no assistants. This request, Portland assumed, must have originated from the man's stubborn insistence on independence and self-determination. Admirable for a person such as he, but also quite predictable. And his disability made the man even more susceptible to manipulation.

Portland also observed the other division heads' reactions to Duran's report. As the blind man droned on enthusiastically about the tweaks to his invention, Aiyme leaned in, focusing her undivided attention with an intrigued look; Valdez would seem uninterested but his eyes had that unnatural gleam to him; only the first presenter was the exception, for he, Portland noticed with annoyance, was watching _HIM_ through half-lidded eyes.

"So to conclude, we are almost ready on the technical side of the project?"

The others shared a look amongst themselves, a look which Portland did not want to like to see. "There will always be some improvements that could be made, Mr. Portland-"

The man waved his hand, uninterested. It was a dismissal, which the others took as the sign to head back to their stations. The hunched man tapped Duran on the shoulder, from which Duran uttered, "It's over?" and standing to leave as well.

Portland resisted the urge to yawn as he too stood to leave the room, reflecting with derision that he could remember none of the technical information at all. As he took a swig from his ever-handy flask, he noticed the General Affairs head peeking at him like a child through the open doorway.

"What is it? Got something more to discuss, F-"

"The older one. Can I start playing with him?"

Portland's eyebrows twitched, remembering a similar question the man had asked a few days after receiving the two subjects.

"By play, I assume you mean - "

"Harmless. Meant as a test of mental faculty. If he is as the reports regularly say, then it will be interesting."

The bigger man seemed to consider this for a moment, but afterward waved at the other in a dismissive fashion. The other man bowed deeply, and left Portland to his thoughts.

_My role in this project is nearly at a close._ That was partly true, for he was no teacher, he was by essence a disciplinary manager. That had always been the case in the projects he had been completed: when it was judged that the subjects had been sufficiently trained, then his role would be completed. In the end, the project's aims WERE to create top-class Knightmare operators, and unfortunately he did not possess the level of expertise in the field.

The only thing left to be done was to continue supervision of the project, most especially the unique subjects he had been given.

* * *

"Alright, Subject N., we're done for the day; you are free to disengage your thought-spheres."

"Yes."

Nunnally let her mind free, relaxing it from its state of tense concentration that had lasted four hours. This action, she remembered from the man's explanations when they had initially started, would serve to disconnect her mind from the "Mind's Eye", severing the images that she had been "seeing" and plunging her once again into darkness.

She removed the device which had been placed on her head, removing the wires plastered methodically. She turned her head to where she thought the man had been, and felt his presence move closer.

"That was a better attempt than was projected, Subject N. It is pleasing to see you integrate the Mind's Eye well with a computer simulation, and at the first try at that."

Nunnally winced to be called by that name again, it had been hers ever since the voice had "transferred" her over to Dr. Duran's care. At first she had hoped that she and her brother would be finally free of the voice's conditions, but the voice had heartlessly reminded her of the continuation of that fact - a fact which Dr. Duran was in no hurry to disprove.

Nunnally had spent every day over the past months coming to Dr. Duran's laboratory - testing out the new system and giving it her best, knowing full well that the voice would be watching her. She felt helpless at this fact, although as time went on when there had been no "tests" to complete, Nunnally had slightly relaxed her rigid determination to excel. Dr. Duran, whom she had discovered to be blind such as herself, was also a gentler existence than the voice's.

However, this was not to say that Nunnally could completely put her trust in the man, as she discovered that he was just as uncompromising in his own way as the voice. Dr. Duran seemed to value his new invention more than the girl herself.

At first, Nunnally could not understand one bit of the scientist's explanation for the system - it was only through personal experience that Nunnally figured out how the system seemed to work. With minute cameras the size of a thumbnail scattered throughout an area, the user of the system would be able to form a live, three-dimensional image of that area. When the system is activated through the device placed on her head, she would be able to see that area through visual stimuli sent to her brain. It had its limits, most obviously that it required the cameras to be placed beforehand so that a definite picture could be formed - and thus the lack of cameras would result in blind spots or even a return to blindness altogether.

So far, Nunnally had heard the man explain, the images she would see would be mainly in black and white hues. But Dr. Duran had promised improvements, namely the feature of colored images being created, but for now, as the voice had coldly stated: "As you have gotten some familiarity with the system, I have decided to move you along the next stage." And that stage was -

"Computer simulations?"

She had been surprised to hear it earlier that day. Dr. Duran had informed her of the sudden shift in tests, a change from the usual everyday tinkering with the system.

"Uh...yeah, the boss demanded and I really can't refuse the boss," the man had said sheepishly. "Basically, Subject N., the images will no longer be coming from real-time images...that is to say, not from the little cameras, but from the computer itself..."

Little Nunnally just nodded her head, and when she saw what the simulation was, she was momentarily confused. She saw that she was sitting in some sort of closed area, with numerous dials and buttons around her. The computer's voice had suddenly started a tutorial on "nightmare operations", and it was only when the image of a blocky robotic figure traverse over land like a figure-skater appeared that the girl realized what she would be learning to do.

"Knightmare?"

The little girl's voice, which she had spoken in a whisper, had barely registered in Duran's ears. He had been too busy working with his own Mind's Eye component to monitor the girl's progress, as he had been ordered to do. As such, when the initial tutorials ended hours later, he was surprised to hear the results from the on-board computer - the figures were astronomically higher than anticipated!

So it was that when the girl had been dismissed early for the day, Duran fumbled for the phone, literally punching the hotline for the Knightmare Frame Research and Development Division. Dr. Aiyme would be unpleasantly surprised to hear this...

* * *

The hunched figure of the man stopped before the door leading to Subject R.'s room. The man swung the box he was carrying absentmindedly, seemingly divided over whether or not to finally push the open button.

Finally, it seemed that the man had decided - as the door slid open, it revealed a shirtless form doing push-ups on the floor.

Over time, Lelouch had endured numerous changes to his physique. A dozen more endurance sessions in hostile environments had wrought their effects all over the boy's body - from scars to burn marks. He had also developed quite an impressive figure, surprising for a boy his age. Unfortunately, the boy's stamina remained frustratingly unchanged, causing much consternation in him, for it had been the factor in most of his failures. (He could only do push-ups up to the twenty count.)

By now, the boy had settled in completely to life as a subservient. There were no thoughts of revolt or plans for freedom that dwelled in that boy's mind, instead, every day was a personal battle for his sister's well-being. Every success he applauded greedily, seeing it as a personal victory over the voice; every failure he took as a step downward in his dignity. If one were to meet the boy's eyes, as the visitor now did, one would behold a violet void locked in an lifeless loop.

Those eyes now beheld the hunching visitor with surprise and suspicion. Lelouch spent some time, poised in his push-up position, locking stares with the man.

"Chess?"

Lelouch's eyes widened for a second, before narrowing. "Who are you? Is it another test? I assumed I was done for the day." An exhausting day, Lelouch added silently.

The man did not answer as he squatted down and began opening the box he'd been carrying to set up the field. Lelouch looked annoyed, and said, "I ask you again, who are you? Am I to be having another test? Are you planning to test my resilience? If so, I can assure you - "

The man, having finished setting up the chess pieces, now sat up and regarded the boy with an expectant gaze. The boy, still in the same push up position, refused to budge, holding the other's gaze resolutely with his own. The staring contest ended with Lelouch's sigh of defeat as he too took his place opposite the man.

The man was amused, judging from his smiling, half-lidded eyes, and immediately proceeded to move his pawn forward. He watched as the boy regarded him for a few more seconds, and then clenched his feet excitedly as he saw the boy's face put on an analytic look as the latter surveyed the field.

"Very interesting."

* * *

Daily Diary

Total Estimated Performance Level: 57.74%  
Total Estimated Performance Level: 97.65%

I pulled the former estimates from Subject R.'s latest attempt with a live Glasgow model.  
He had average scores all-around, from maneuvers to combat. His level was equivalent, as the computer says, to that of a beginner.  
(I cite the more recent studies showing the average Britannian soldier's level at approximately 60.6%.)  
This after endless weeks of constant Knightmare operations training.  
The latter estimate was sent to me earlier today, from Dr. Duran.  
I'd barely remembered that the trial simulations would be starting today, and I almost didn't believe my eyes as I saw the figures.  
I yelled at the man, demanding him to run his numbers again. He did it thrice, and it took four times on my end ,studying the data for any discrepancies, for me to finally believe the estimate. Unbelievable.

In short, Subject N., whom I previously had no high hopes for, now supposedly has the rare one-in-a-million raw talent as a Knightmare pilot.  
I hurriedly scheduled more simulations in the future, ordering techs from their beds in order to integrate the Mind's Eye into the various simulations.  
It looks like Portland actually scored a big hit this time.

Dr. Rouche Aiyme


	5. SubPhase 5: The First Break

Author's Gab: Currently distracted by some EXEC_COSMOFLIPS/., if you know what I'm talking about without googling, high five!

* * *

Inside one of the rooms located in a top-secret location that housed the entirety of the minds toiling for the Lamperouge Project, a fierce battle was taking place between Lelouch and his surprise visitor.

The field was a chessboard, the combatants: magnetic pieces that made a distinct noise each time one side would move them. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were that of the pieces moving, a steady rhythm which embodied the conflict being waged.

_Click. Clack._

On one side was Lelouch, former prince of Britannia, now a willing subservient under one "Master", all for the sake of a sister he had not personally seen in over a year. The boy fought fiercely, thinking that there were high stakes to be had; that this was another "challenge" for him to surmount, in order to ensure Nunnally's safekeeping.

_Click. Clack._

His visitor, Lelouch observed, was a curious figure. For one, he had a pronounced hunched back which gave him a sinister look as he surveyed the field. Adding to this impression were his long bluish bangs that concealed perpetually half-lidded eyes. Those eyes would survey the field in the brief moment when he made a move, and then look at the opponent after.

_Click. Clack._

So far, the battle had been in favor of the visitor. Much of Lelouch's pawns had been decimated, yet there was a positive note wherein the visitor's queen had been sacrificed, losing the man mobility.

_Click. Clack._

"The Knightmare operations. Doing well?"

_Clack._

Lelouch looked up, startled from his concentration by the man's sudden question. They had been silent all this time, and the boy could not figure out the man's intention in asking a question now. _Perhaps a strategy?_

"No. Not distracting tactic. Will stop to prove intention."

The man straightened and looked the boy in the eye. "Repeating question. Knightmare Operations. Doing well?"

Lelouch shifted uncomfortably. In truth, the Knightmare "challenges" were the challenges that had caused much consternation to the boy, as he had consistently achieved lower scores than average every time. Even when he started piloting a real Glasgow unit and made to perform on a real field, he struggled to perform even the more basic maneuvers. Any mention of Knightmares at the start of the day would cause the boy to break out in sweat, mind racing at a speed equal to light.

"Test or not, I will honestly say that I am not comfortable with piloting those things. Perhaps this will give a suggestion to the upper authority not to assign anymore, as it is hardly fair to-"

_Click._

The man had made his move again. Lelouch looked down in surprise, and back at the man's face as they regarded each other once more.

"Will have to master it soon. Unofficial. Not confident on date, but you will start working with partner."

_Clack._

"Partner?" Lelouch raised his head, looking slightly taken aback. _So there really was a point in all these exercises after all!_ The old analytical mind flared up for a moment, taking time to consider the information.

"Based on your results, highly unlikely you will be main pilot. Perhaps backup for operation. Intellectual quotient astronomical. Recommend logistics, if it was my place. Tell me boy,

_Click._

"Thoughts on condition? Do you have an idea why you and your sister are here?"

At the mention of Nunnally, Lelouch visibly shook, as he dove to place his king in a defensive position. "You...are you trying to test my responses?"

"Simply rhetorical. Slightly. You are in a disadvantageous position. No hope of rescue. No choice but to obey, no choice but to drive on. Poor Knightmare performance merits imminent disposal. Yet you strive on. Broken? Tell me boy, have you been broken?" At that, the visitor's eyes drilled into Lelouch's, startling the latter to a standing position.

"What are you - "

_Clack._

"Will be silent from now. Have to finish game. Your move."

Lelouch was silent, looking down at the man with a fierce expression. This lasted for some time before he finally knelt back down and made his move, springing a trap that had been laid out 15 moves ago.

_Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click. Clack._

"Check."

_Click. Clack._

"Check."

The man blinked, finally seeing his dilemma. Drumming his hands on his knees for a few seconds, he pushed his King into the lion's maw, earning a derisive grunt from Lelouch.

"Checkmate."

As the man packed up the field, Lelouch leaned against the wall and asked, "What was with that last move? You might have lasted a few more moves if you'd used your bishop."

The man regarded the boy as he scooped up the pieces clumsily. "No stomach for stalemate. There is a term. Bravery, perhaps?" At this, Lelouch sneered. "One of the better noble values. Long-term. Wins battles assumed to be lost."

As the man turned towards the door, he paused to look at the boy. "More hard work. If you assumed piloting, you assumed right. More hard work to meet his demands. Only way to prevent disposal. Use powerful mind to work wonders. Waste otherwise if you don't. Oh yes, last question. If my king had eaten that rook fifteen moves ago, what would've been course? No answer? Will resort to assumptions then. Will come to play again. Interesting opponent. Also, never forget resilience. Or is it endurance? Noble word. Denotes strength of will. Something all kings want but not all have. Goodbye, boy."

With that, the abrupt visitor left Lelouch's room, leaving the boy with a pensive look on his face, the same face which had sputtered in shock just a moment ago.

* * *

"Subject N here, confirming successful synchronization with the Mind's Eye system."

Nunnally took a deep breath, then pushed the button which jump-started Red Barrel Field Z, the latest simulation she was made to test. Immediately, she began to see at first a black-and-white rendition of a ruined city, which then shifted to a brighter, colored image. In there, she knew, the red Glasgows were waiting, her "enemies".

As she started performing the routine action of systematically destroying the "enemy" frames that continually danced on her field of vision, she reflected on the bombshell dropped earlier that day when she was told that she would soon be working with a partner. She felt apprehension for having to adjust to a new presence (she had experienced that a few months back when she had been introduced to Dr. Aiyme, a cold sounding person and her staff), and concern: was this another person who had also suffered as much as she had?

A pack of Knightmares opened fire from behind a ruined building, forcing her to jump and traverse up the side of another building, swiftly outpacing their fire. Nunnally then disengaged her "magnet boots", free-falling in midair and launching her "fists" at the enemies, which smashed into two of their number. She quickly retracted the harkens (the force of the retraction deformed the frames significantly) and dashed closer to the third and last, dancing around its fire like a rapidly pirouetting ballerina. With a swift thrust, her fist impaled the enemy, crushing its insides in a decisive blow.

A bright tune sounded, signaling the end of the exercise. The images of the defeated enemy still impaled in her hand and the ruined city receded, plunging Nunnally into the familiar darkness.

"Your results are impressive as usual, Subject N.", said a voice near her.

Nunnally knew it belonged to Dr. Aiyme, supposedly the creator of the new model she had been piloting in the simulation. When the Morgana had been introduced to her, Nunnally had been taken aback at the elder woman's harsh demand for perfection. Dr. Aiyme had explained that this model would be significantly harder to master than the Glasgows that Nunnally had been using; and at first, the girl had found it to be so. The Knightmare had some new things to watch out for: the wheels on the feet which required minute reorientations every second, its top-heavy build which meant a balancing act while moving to avoid turning over, and, the model had only one form of weaponry, a pair of harkens that when not launched, acted as the model's fists.

However, to Dr. Aiyme's surprise, Nunnally had determinedly surpassed the challenges, expertly handling the Morgana with ease after a few sessions. It had gotten to the point where the girl had invented a few one-of-a-kind maneuvers all on her own, taking advantage of the model's unique features - the best of which was with using the "magnet boots" to scale the side of a building, all the while constantly applying adjustments to the model's positioning to avoid slipping and falling headfirst to the ground.

"Yes, I am glad to be of use."

**"That is good to hear, little girl."**

Nunnally started with fright. That voice! The voice which had not spoken to her in a long while, the voice which even now brought a shiver to her body. The girl now felt as helpless as a rabbit shivering in the cold.

"Mr. Portland, what are you - "

"I have seen the results, Dr. Aiyme. It is good, gratifying to know that I was not wrong to train you. Now, let us have a little test to determine your resolve to serve."

"You can't mean...but it's too soon for - "

"Why question this far down the road, Aiyme?", the voice laughed mirthlessly. "Have you started developing affection for the girl? Miss Knightmare lover?"

"How dare you - "

"She will have to learn this sooner or later, Aiyme, or we risk losing the Morgana in future engagements."

At this, the woman fell silent, though Nunnally could not understand why. At any rate, she was ordered to synchronize again with the simulation._ If this is another one of the voice's tests, _she thought, _I will have do my very best again, for nii-sama's sake_. The image formed before her this time was that of the ruined city again, but this time a group of people were standing in line in front of her. Behind were the "enemies", also formed in a line.

She moved to raise her hands to attack. She squeaked in fright when she heard the voice speak, as if whispering in her ear: "Why are you shooting unmanned models, girl? Wait until the pilots get in, at least."

"But," the girl looked confusingly at her "enemies". Were they not the targets?

Just then, the people turned and ran to the models, using wires to clamber onto the Knightmares. "By pilots...you mean...", a horrible realization dawned on her.

"Yes, girl. All these simulations you have ran, they were all about killing enemy pilots within their Knightmares. You have done well in dispatching the lot of them so easily, with style I might add. I am very proud."

"No..."

"Do you tell me you did not know? You did not even suspect, deep within your mind that this was the reality? That the things you had been eliminating would be real, living humans? How else could these Knightmares operate? How else could your own model operate without you?"

"NO! I'll never..."

"These Knightmares were the means by which the Holy Britannian Empire flattened Japan, introducing a new face of warfare to the world."

So these things were the reason the happy times had ended, that the peaceful summer with Suzaku-san and _nii-sama_ had come to an abrupt close? But even still...

"No....I'll never...", the girl desperately whispered, not even deigning to move the Morgana as it was pelted mercilessly by the enemy Knightmares.

"Why do you hesitate now, when this is all you've just been doing for almost a year! Destroy them girl! Obliterate them all!"

"No....I...not kill..." The girl sobbed, hands slack on the controls. The cockpit around her shook from the impact of the enemy's relentless attack. "Never...no more..."

The voice seemed to sigh. "One more thing then girl. The pilots that you will meet on the battlefield will inevitaby be after your brother's life."

_Nii-sama?_

"The enemies you met were supposed to be Britannian soldiers, and you were supposed to protect your brother from them. If they destroy you now, they will end up finding and killing your brother. You want that to happen, girl?"

"No...not _nii-sama._..", the girl whispered fiercely. Nunnally's tears hardenesd as she gripped the controls firmly once more, lifting the Morgana from its fallen position. The Knightmares had long since ended their attack, and were no moving past her to reach - _nii-sama?_

"NO!!_ NII-SAMA_!!!", the girl screamed, driving the Morgana's fists into the nearby enemy, crushing the cockpit (and the pilot inside) with determined ease. The Knightmares opened fire again, but this time she easily evaded, dancing effortlessly around their fire, making for the nearest enemy.

"STAY-"

The harken pierced through the Knightmare to embed itself in another's cockpit just behind.

"AWAY-"

Another Knightmare was quickly disarmed, and it was used as a makeshift metal shield against the others' fire. The attack quickly shredded the Knightmare, but the Morgana threw the flaming remains into the others before it exploded, obliterating all but the last.

"FROM MY-"

The last one, seemingly finding its ammo stores empty, raised its tonfas to strike. It was quickly shredded away, and the Morgana now undertook a grisly dismemberment of the last enemy. After all of its limbs were ripped off, the knightmare's cockpit surprisingly ejected, but the pilot would not escape as the model aimed its fist at the retreating object.

_"NII-SAMA!!!"_

The harken ruthlessly struck, impaling the pilot supposed to be inside. The cockpit exploded in a shower of sparks, ending the battle. The harken was retracted back into the single figure which now remained amidst the blazing remains of the fallen. The Morgana's mechanical eyes gleamed red, an blazing eye in the midst of the fiery storm.

Nunnally bawled endlessly in her seat, calling her brother's name over and over, not even registering the simulation ending or the voice's final triumphant compliment in her ear.

* * *

Progress Notes:

Tested the new system today. Supposed to simulate a field commander's greatest dream.  
Assimilates data gathered from on-field reconnaissance. Filters it real-time to the operator.  
Garners unprecedented battlefield mastery. With the system, entire armies can be commanded  
without need for subordinates to issue orders. Or lesser captains to delegate tasks. No pilots needed.  
Just remote handling of entire armies. Entire groups of Knightmares. Like robotic chess pieces.  
Not surprised to find 50% efficiency for my result. Highest so far, but assume greater results for him.  
After all, "Siege Perilous" was designed especially for him.

Dr. F.F.P.


	6. SubPhase 6: Siege Perilous

Author Gab: Still distracted...I think I'm gonna put on some JIBUN WOOOOO~ to offset it.

* * *

"Knight Two, fall back to point six, use the rocks for ample cover."

_Taptaptap..._

"Bishop One, intercept the packs converging on point three, maximum range."

_Tap..._

"Rook One and Rook Two, when over 50% of the enemy occupy point five, begin bombardment."

Lelouch watched as the the black Glasgows moved into their exact positions as ordered. In truth, there was no need for him to issue verbal instructions, as the broad, complicated keyboard before him was the one responsible for issuing orders. After inputting the commands, it then became the function of the "Siege Perilous" system to transmit the orders electronically to the fielded Knightmares, signaling the on-board AI to act. In this particular simulation, Lelouch was now the literal commander of a troop of a dozen Knightmares.

Lelouch had, at first glance, deduced the system for what it was: an ambitious one that would trivialize modern warfare into a mere strategic and tactical struggle between two minds. All the nuances of commanding soldiers (or in this case Knightmare pilots), would be eliminated in favor of AI that would perform orders unquestioningly at the operator's command.

These AIs, crucial to the system's operation were, Lelouch had been told, specialized programs patterned on the battle data of his future partner, whoever he was. The boy saw the skill his partner supposedly had in the Knightmares on the field themselves, performing maneuvers on the field that the boy could only dream of doing. Each of the Knightmares had their specific roles, from tactical carbine-toting units to heavy-duty Knightmares specialized in artillery support. In order for the AIs to reach their full potential in their specific roles, Lelouch had to constantly perform rapid calculations and battlefield analysis based on data streamed real-time from on-field reconnaissance.

Drawing up the tactical field, Lelouch saw his aggressive battle plan, the one he had formulated at the start of the simulation, reach all the conditions smoothly without any alterations. The Knightmares responded swiftly to his instructions, covering much ground in minutes and whittling away the white-colored enemies piece by bloody piece.

Finally, only the lone King was left: a blurry white piece which was supposed to resemble his own - the enemy "Siege Perilous". With its destruction, the success message played, signaling the end. The images faded to black, allowing the former prince to remove the virtual imaging device from his head with a sigh.

"At least it was easy this time," the boy muttered as he took off the device from his head.

What met his eyes first upon seeing the real world again would utterly shock him to the core, reviving an old feeling from deep inside him. For towering over him was none other than the massive figure that owned the voice. That infernal voice - haunting his dreams, giving birth to his nightmares, hateful yet fear-inspiring to the boy._ If there's one thing I shall despise for eternity aside from the Emperor, it is this man...._

"What's with that pathetic look? Are you that scared of me boy?" The man's belly visibly shook as he chortled.

The boy hesitated where he was, sitting inside the simulator, carefully forming a response. "That's not true...", the boy said, averting his eyes from the man.

The man snorted, suddenly leaning down to clamp his huge hand on the boy's throat. "That fear...that uncertainty...that is good to have. It accords respect to one's superior, it acknowledges your own powerlessness. But against others, boy, as I have trained you to do," the man's grasp tightened, choking Lelouch. "You will show no fear. No hesitation. You will sweep away the enemy - the enemy of my choosing, like a relentless tide. You will make them bow before you," the man's voice raised, at the same time he pulled down his hand to forcing the boy's head to lower, "as you bow to ME."

The boy was freed, leaving the boy choking for air, head hanging in an awkward position. Lelouch fought to stifle a roar of outrage as he kept his eyes on the ground.

"Be sure to remember the lesson I have given you." The man walked past the boy to the auxiliary computer that monitored the simulation device. With a few clicks, the data from the latest simulation flashed on the screen.

"Commendable results, boy. It seems that your skills are highly suited for this area. It must have been an oversight on our part to assume your malleability as a pilot. Sometimes first impressions really are the right ones." The man nodded to himself. He turned his head to look at the boy. "Face me boy. I have something important to announce."

The boy kept his head bowed, as the man went on: "Due to the increase in your accountability for all the things we have taught you, I have deemed it necessary increase safety checks. We have begun to administer malignant nanomachines into your sister's system."

At this, Lelouch started jerkily, turning his exceedingly shocked face at the man. "What did you say?"

The man, nonplussed, continued, "It's a pain to go into detail, but suffice it to say, we have been including the machines in her every meal. Should you ever have the need to betray us, betray ME, I will be forced to activate those machines, and they will, slowly but surely, eat your sister from the inside."

Lelouch gasped, hardly believing what he was hearing. His breaths came in labored wheezes as his mind fought to manage his reaction. _The lengths this man, these PEOPLE would go to!! To harm Nunnally, Nunnally whom he had not spoken to, nor touched nor comforted all through this time, to harm his most precious thing! After all those hard, nerve-shattering "challenges", all that determination to succeed, and still he could not keep her safe!_ The boy started to rise, glaring venomous murder at the man who stood there, seemingly unaffected by the former Britannian prince's anger.

"Oh? That is a good face, boy. Anger most righteous. That's right. You are free to hate, to despise me boy! Fix your eyes on this loathsome figure before you!"

The boy now spoke utterly unrecognizable profanities, his body visibly shaking, fist raised in protest. "You bastards! I...I will...!"

"But remember this fact, boy." The man pulled a device from his pocket, a cylindrical object with a green button at the top. When he pressed it, soldiers came in through the door to restrain the shaking boy. "I have the ace, and you do not. As you already fully well know, disobedience leads to destruction, a destruction that will not be granted to you, but to one whom you treasure most. " He gestured at the soldiers. "Take him to his room. Soon you shall meet your partner, boy."

Lelouch, former prince, struggled in their hands, his face indescribably contorted in apoplectic fury. Strangely, he could not even utter a single threat from his constricted throat at the figure gloating triumphantly over him as he was borne away from the simulation room.

* * *

Dr. Aiyme left the simulation room, leaving Duran with Subject N. as the latter broke down after hearing something apparently recorded for the girl by Portland. She did not know what the recording that she had delivered said, but she had an inkling that it was another one of Portland's clever traps, meant to force and cow into submission.

For her part, Dr. Aiyme was more concerned with the way that Subject N. had so easily mastered the Morgana. Through the simulations, the esteemed engineer had discovered certain flaws in the model, necessitating corrections; at the same time smoothing out the rough-edged sections of the model. This revolutionary sixth-generation Knightmare Frame, a machine she originally thought could be mastered only by the most elite of pilots, was now inexplicably being driven like a well-trained horse by its first Devicer.

_And I suppose we have to thank the Mind's Eye for that_, Aiyme thought. Without Duran's invention, there would have been no way for Subject N. to prove her ability, which might have possibly caused her to be the first candidate to be disposed of the two.

In a way, ever since co-supervising Subject N. in the simulations with Duran, she had developed a certain aggravating attachment for the subject, to this poor slip of a girl who, despite appearances, effortlessly breezed through the simulations for the sake of a brother she could not even confirm was alive. _There was faith in that, or maybe ignorance. I wonder what would happen if she heard that -_

"Dr Aiyme?"

She was broken from her thoughts by the sudden appearance of the head of General. That man's hunched frame unsettled to her, and even now as he hobbled over to her, she could not resist a wave of apprehension pass through her.

The man held up a datapad. Aiyme took it with curiosity and her immediately her eyes widened at the thing that was prominently displayed on screen. The datapad shook from the trembling that was apparent in her hands then.

"What is the meaning of this-"

"Fresh from intel. Britannian secret project. Just started up. Rest classified, unable to obtain more. Need more time to infiltrate."

"How could this...", she was even more shocked at the name she saw. "That pudding maniac is heading this? But this...this is too...pretty! For someone like him to propose this design..." She returned her gaze to the man, who was now walking away. "Any idea on the status of the project? Do we have any word on this model's features?"

"Nothing much. A few conjectures. No proof. But confirmed," the man looked back. "To be seventh generation. Skipping sixth entirely."

"Seventh generation? That means it would be higher spec-wise than the Morgana!" She approached the man, bringing her face close. "You have to know more about this project, or we risk failing ours by a wide margin! The Sutherland was easier to manage with a few tweaks but this!," she gestured at the datapad. "This thing could very well trash our own without any effort!"

"Finding doubt in own work?", the man smirked, _he SMIRKED._

"Even my model has its limits. It was designed to be revolutionary against current models; we have to have data on them beforehand before we can create countermeasures!"

"Then find countermeasure. Innovate. Modify. Excel. Exactly like the little girl does. Excel, excel, excel. Isn't that what you do best?"

Dr. Aiyme said nothing more as the man took his leave, so engrossed was she at the design displayed on the datapad. "The Z-01..." It's beautiful...

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL!!!???"

Dr. Roderick Valdez, looking very much like a comical cartoon character at the moment, literally exploded (in the only way a man could explode) as he stared in shock at the data that was delivered to him by the head from General. On the datapad he held he had seen something which, in a word "blew his mind".

After this initial outburst of shock (by which time the head had already disappeared without a word), the crazed arms fanatic started pacing around his shop, shooting looks akin to an inebriated madman everywhere. It frightened his assistants, who all proceeded to excuse themselves for break.

Valdez was oblivious to it all, so intent was he on something within his private thoughts. He stopped near one of his creations, a "failure" to this genius, and paused to gaze upon it with contempt. He then proceeded to remove all the wires plugged into this creation, muttering obscenely all the while, removing the screws and bolts and virtually dismembering it.

After he was through, he stared for a while at the mess he had made, by which time he had fixed his eyes on another "failure" and then proceeded to destroy that too.

"Useless, useless, useless!"

"All of you are useless! All this time something like this was made, created, forged! The lights, the brilliant lights!", he was roaring now, the image of a madman bent on destruction would now best describe Valdez as he razed his creations to the ground."

"That light! I must have them, I must create them! I alone must be the creator of the weapon that will destroy everything!!!"

Hours later, the man sat cross-legged on the floor, amidst piles of scrap and parts that now littered the shop. It would be a mess to clean up, and the man didn't mind the fact that he had just destroyed almost two years' worth of finished products.

A profound silence settled on the shop, broken only by the occasional tinkle of bolts clashing together. The man, who had been staring at the information on the datapad all this time, now ran his hands repeatedly through his wildly unkempt hair, vigorously rubbing the scalp in the process.

"Such a thing...if it had already been developed but...", abruptly, the man fell face forward, planting his face on the datapad's screen. "I...must be happy..." The man was inexplicably falling asleep, his eyes taking on a glazed look. "This...Ha-ha-haaaadron...", the man yawned, an obvious precursor to his gradual descent into the land of dreams.

* * *

That night, the siblings could hardly sleep in their respective quarters. Nunnally had taken it harder, concerned not with the fact that they had dared to do these kinds of things with her brother, but with the knowledge that she had not achieved anything at all.

Lelouch was more concerned with his feelings towards the man, this facility, everything which kept him and his sister imprisoned: powerless to act for themselves. Deep within the boy's inner recesses, that old feeling of vengeance crept in, sparked by the outrage he felt at the mistreating they had both suffered. The boy had been willing to pay the price, to become a dog of this project, in order to safeguard Nunnally. But now that he knew that he was undoubtedly being played, _that all those challenges had been for naught..._

The boy realized, in hindsight, that he had not touched his sister ever since that fateful day, that he had only glimpsed her through electronic screen or glass. He was saddened at this fact, and now redoubled his resolve, his mind unwittingly sharpened by the many challenges that he had faced. _Must plan...must save us both...must save Nunnally..._The boy's dreams that night would be scenes of triumphant retribution.

Nunnally cried again that night, yearning for her brother's touch. She did not know what they could possibly have done with her brother; all she had to go on were the voice's assurances; assurances which she now started to doubt. All I want...is peace...a gentle place...for _nii-sama_ and myself...

Nunnally gripped her sheets, tightly hugging herself. That night, she wanted peace, and she was given peace. A peace of mind given by her inner self. In an instant she sees, with a clarity more apparent than any Mind's Eye, the images of a peaceful time...When everything and everyone around her was happy..._playing with her brother...Euphie...at the fragrant, colorful garden where they all played..._Happy voices...voices of love....

The next morning, the speaker installed in each of the sibling's rooms came alive as the familiar voice boomed, "Prepare yourself! Today is the day you will meet your partner. You will be..."

* * *

Personal Log:

...left to ponder yet again the purpose of this project as I see the empty inbox of my electronic database.  
It has been almost two years since the unnamed benefactor has contacted me, and although the resources  
keep on trickling in, I can almost fathom a disinterest the outside has towards this project. Perhaps-


	7. SubPhase 7: Despair, So Delicious

Author's Gab: By the way, if ever you folks are wondering: no, I do not proofread this story, it's typed in directly into a blank uploaded document. I have seen the grammar mistakes in some sections, and I am working to make sure it doesn't happen anymore, but as it is, I will not be re-editing those again. Call it laziness if you will, but hey, my account profile says it all. Also, no longer distracted. Who knew a thesis would be so sobering an experience?

* * *

Eyebrows knit together in determination, Dr. Rimes Duran flipped the pancake over in the pan. A sweet smell wafted from it and he sighed as he breathed it in. He then took a nearby salt-and-pepper shaker and shook some salt into the pan.

He was pleased to find that even with the limitations of color currently imposed on the Mind's Eye (supporting only a meager range of 50), it still could finely distinguish shape, allowing its inventor to distinguish the fine circular shape the pancake had made. What bugged the scientist though, was the fact that he had to work as hard every morning as he would do in the day, attaching and then removing a mess of wires from his head.

Which was why it would only be fifteen minutes later, when the pancake and coffee had long since cooled off, before Duran could sit down and have breakfast. He felt around for the shaker again, and applied a liberal sprinkling of pepper on the pancake.

It was very fortunate that the room where he prepared and ate breakfast was a small one, with the stove being easily accessible from the dining table. Despite his stubborn insistence on cooking his meals or doing any other activities of daily living by himself, Duran had asked for facilities which favored his condition. That meant a kitchen doubling as dining room, a digital voice that read him his daily inbox, and other such aids.

That digital voice would alert Duran foremost, before any reminders from other staff in the project, to the announcements from the Chief; and today, there was one, a short statement about his intentions for the two subjects.

"So it's finally the day huh?" The man's thoughts turn towards the little girl with whom he'd spent the most of his time. Over the year, the scientist had begun to regard the girl as far more than just mere equipment, a mere "part" complementing his invention. While he could not guess the girl's feelings about her situation, not having bothered to talk about it in their sessions, he had been confident that at least he was a better man to be with than that Portland.

Yet his self-assurance came apart yesterday when the girl had heard that recording delivered by Dr. Aiyme. Duran did not know about the contents of that recording, but suspected that it was another one of Portland's "methods". As such, he was momentarily confused the moment the girl started moaning, even more so when Aiyme abruptly left. With that, he was left all alone in a room with a girl that was steadily growing hysterical.

He had been using the Mind's Eye at that moment, and all he could do was stand there helplessly as he watched the girl's face, seeing the texture classified as "moisture" by the system coating it. His mind had raced, thinking desperately on his course of action. The tests had not been through: would he have to use Portland's method of cowing the girl back into submission? But no, that would mean sinking to the man's level? Would he have to comfort the girl now, offering himself? But then, the man did not know how to do it. In all his years he had never known how to express his emotions, and he believed he would only be doing an awkward job with it now, which would certainly not help the girl much.

By then, the man could see the only way open to him. He quietly and quickly disengaged the Mind's Eye, scattering all the wires as he rapidly informed the soldiers-on-duty that the session was canceled. Then he left the room just like Dr. Aiyme had done, doing his best feeling out the corridor as he literally escaped from the suffocating room, leaving the girl to be picked up by the soldiers.

_I'm sorry, I just can't._

Dr. Rimes Duran thought he felt a presence to his side, but he quickly waved it off his thoughts as he sought the privacy of his own quarters.

After that, it was the rest of the time spent avidly listening to soothing music in his room, which carried him through to dreamless sleep.

Having finished breakfast and his other daily necessities, Duran ambled slowly out of his room. He hoped that the girl had calmed down somewhat, as he was not prepared to face yet another scene like before.

Briefly, he wondered at that, at his seeming inability to connect. Perhaps it needed to be rectified.

* * *

Dr. Roderick Valdez glanced, bleary-eyed, at the assistants who were scrambling to clean up the aftermath of his rampage. He took a sip from the mug of coffee in his hand, and savored the bitter flavor as he swirled the mixture inside his mouth.

He glanced at the datapad that had been given to him by his assistants moments ago, and his eyebrows raised in amusement at Portland's grand message. He finished his hot coffee in one gulp, and tossed the empty mug at a nearby assistant, who promptly fell from surprise - dropping and scattering everything the latter had been holding in the process.

Valdez did his "morning stretches", mind preoccupied by something as he mulled over the information that had been given to him yesterday. His frenzy had sobered over the night, replaced by a creative mood as his imagination took flight.

_I will perfect it first._ The man thought to himself. _I alone have the right!_

_

* * *

_

The digital alarm beeped in loud, scratching noises. At this, the sleeping form of Dr. Rouche Aiyme stirred, slowly coming to life as she bashed the button on the alarm.

She rose, putting on the underwear that had been left on the floor from the night before, and began to freshen herself up for the day. After quickly heating and consuming the rations for the morning, she consulted her daily planner on a datapad. Her eyes widened slightly at the announcement from Portland, a message not hard to miss in the mostly empty inbox she had.

As she put on her lab attire, she began to think of how she should handle the subjects from then on. All this time, she had only personally handled one subject, Subject N., while only having the occasional curious look at the other. As they would soon be training together, Aiyme would have to adjust to managing the two subjects who would be simulating the complete Morgana, complete with theoretical armaments.

Abruptly, her thoughts turned to Dr. Valdez, who had promised her awhile back about installing his special gatling guns on the real Morgana. This step would round up the model itself, allowing the techs to be able to finally integrate the Merlin module into the Morgana. Again, the woman cursed the eccentric's penchant for tardiness as she considered the long period it would take for the two pieces to finally be combined.

As she made to exit her quarters, she spotted the dead goldfish floating limply in its pink bowl. For the second time, she cursed inwardly, planning for five minutes later that day to dispose of it. Then she would have to request for another one, to be delivered at the same time as the next inbound shipment.

Grimacing, she remembered that she would have to approach the strange man from General again about the requisition, something she loathed to do. But though the man was hard to be alone with, she would have to endure, as having a goldfish was a tremendous help - warming the occasional cold night.

* * *

The man straightened in his seat, desperately trying to hold back a sneeze. He succeeded, and his eyes watered as he snorted his nose heavily. After a while, he leaned back again, staring at the datapad on his hand.

Occasionally, the man's eyes would wander around the dark, messy room to the wall-sized electronic screen against the wall. Displayed were various images showcasing real-live happenings from inside and outside the facility. On the upper-left most ones were from the cameras that were hidden in each of the heads' quarters, and the man inwardly snickered at Dr. Aiyme and Dr. Duran's simultaneous exits.

His eyes flicked to the lower-right, where he saw the Lamperouges being stirred from sleep by the Breaker's booming voice. After another swift, cursory glance at the rest of the images, he returned his attention to the image prominently displayed on his datapad.

His fingers trace the little lines passing through the various names of Britannian Emperors long dead, from generation to generation as they cut a swathe through the annals of history. Here was the genealogy of the noble Imperial line, strong and pure. As his fingers descended to the very last to dwell on the current Emperor's name, his eyes knit together ever so slightly. For the briefest of moments his eyelids fling wide open, exposing the furious amber pupils.

But that moment quickly passes, after which the man flings away the datapad with a sigh. Then, placing his hands behind his head, he turns his eyes once more towards the image showing the room Portland had designated.

"Expected reaction? No, too unpredictable...", the man mutters.

* * *

Lelouch was in a calculating mood as he was escorted down the corridor. The boy had set his mind towards the task of discovering a way to get Nunnally and himself free. To that end, he'd begun actively observing everything around him: the structure of the facility, the behavior of the guards, and others. So far, he had yet to find a suitable condition that would help in his eventual plan. The boy was satisfied, however, at optimistic outlook he had been brave enough to adopt.

_You had better watch for yourself from now on, fool. I will lay low for now, playing the part of the "dog" with this partner or whoever, but I shall forever be patient - waiting for that inevitable chink in the armor. _The boy was heady with feelings of victory._ And when that time comes, I vow that you will sorely regret humiliating me, and harming Nunnally!_

So thinking, the boy tightened his clenched fist. He almost wished he could afford to laugh at this very moment.

* * *

Nunnally, for her part, was trying to keep herself as stable as possible. The girl had wanted to break down many times in a tantrum, so desperate was her yearning and concern for her brother. She realized that as long as the voice was there, she could not make her wishes come true.

She earnestly wished for the voice to disappear.

It did not help that the first thing she heard upon waking that morning was that voice's terrible booming, informing her of something that did not dwell long in her fevered mind. At present, Nunnally was intent on nothing more than the peace of mind afforded her at the end of the day, which was why she wanted this meeting with her "partner" to be done and over with.

She heard a distant humming as the one guiding her took her past the door. Afterward, the other one left quickly, not even giving Nunnally the chance to utter her thanks. She was then left all alone in this strange place, wherever it was. Oddly enough, the place gave her a bad feeling, comparably worse than the other rooms she had been in.

* * *

Lelouch stood all alone in darkness. This development put the boy on guard: darkness was a natural enemy. He prepared himself for what would come out of the darkness, and the boy instantly berated himself for feeling a little fear - a throwback to childhood memories.

"So? Where is my partner now? Are you suggesting that this darkness is my partner?" The boy grimly chuckled. "I see now, this is a figurative lesson: I am to use the darkness as a tool as well as consider it my partner."

There was no reply from anywhere, and at this Lelouch finally laughed, his first ever since being in this facility. It was a deep, hearty laugh, ridding the boy of all his pent-up tension.

He yelled into the vast darkness before him, "DID YOU HEAR THAT MY PARTNER??? NICE TO MEET YOU! I'M-"

* * *

The girl shivered, the bad feeling increasing. She did not how long she had spent standing there. Her artificial leg implants had begun to wear on her, something which she had been told was a bad sign. To counteract it, she would have to-

Abruptly, the girl stooped and crouched. There would be no leg exercises to be performed, she had too much going on still. She bore the pain in her legs from crouching as she hid her face behind her hands in an attempt to stem the silently flowing tears.

In her thoughts first and foremost, was her brother. She wanted to know where he was, was he safe, _why isn't he protecting his little sister as all big brothers must do???_

"Sorry for the wait, little girl. Shall we begin the introductions?" The girl started, standing quickly like a rapidly rising geyser. She wiped away her tears as the humming in her ears increased in volume, and she heard a loud thud somewhere as something was slowly lifted.

And then -

* * *

"OH YES! I WILL USE YOU VERY WELL, YOU SHALL BE A GOOD TOOL, NAY, MY GREATEST TOOL! I WILL-"

The boy's voice was loud, so loud, so familiar to the girl. Before she could stop herself, she had uttered that one word.

"_Nii-sama?_"

She desperately believed she was wrong.

The boy choked on his yells, a blinding light finally illuminating the vast tunnelly room. What he saw was equally as destructive to his vision, silencing everything in him.

The boy recalled uttering one word, a single broken word escaping tonelessly, hopelessly.

"Nunn...al...ly?"

The voice returned, an angry, incessant buzz. Background noise for the two, as one walked limply to the visibly shaking other.

The girl was hugged fiercely, drawn into an embrace with familiar touch and warmth. The waterfall had flown again, unbidden yet unchallenged, as she buried herself further in.

After saying that one word, the boy could utter no other. His thoughts: once so rampant, unchallenged in their mastery and skill, confident in their content, now dissipated, replaced by a dull void. As he beheld the familiar sight, the soft, beautiful face, the wavy chestnut hair, something within the boy sputtered into nothingness. _So, partner huh? She is my-_

There is a moist warmth in her hair, but she does not heed, so intent was she to let loose the torrent of emotions that contained all but happiness, at this "reunion". It must be a dream: a dim thought, but the boy she touches is far too corporeal, intransient...

And in that moment, Portland laughed from the depths of his being, his soul soaring in the sweet, familiar feeling of accomplishment, of sweet victory. He pulls out his flask and sprays it all around himself, heedless of the mess it made on his clothes. _In this moment, he is a madman, but it is a satisfied madman as he stares at the screen and concludes that -_

For the two, their bodies intertwined, shaking in utter anguish, there was one thing foremost in their mind. That they had been utterly defeated, that they were powerless. Yes for the siblings, they now realized that-

_They had now fallen into the deepest pits of despair._

_

* * *

_

Entry Log:

(random mutterings) The Hadron cannon's design is very (grumble) unique...but a few calculations....afterwards (mutter)...reveal potent flaws....with this knowledge....(grumble)I have concluded that...YES? What is it, woman? Weapon? (mutter) No shouting, it hurts my processes. Dustbelcher! The Dustbelcher will work. (spit) YOU THERE! Bring the Dustbelcher gun to the Development division, pronto! (loud crash) Annoying woman...so intent on her flawed device...Yes, flawed...it's design is too, shall we say...(laughter) Without a good pilot, that thing will just bowl over and die, like a, um...a turtle! (laughter)

R. Valdez


	8. SubPhase 8: The First Mission

Author's Gab:This ended up coming later than expected due to a computer crash, and I ended up losing the words that were supposed to be originally here forever.

* * *

The daily military exercises ended early for young cadet Suzaku Kururugi. The lad had endured the grueling courses with marked resilience, earning high marks at the end of the day. He had been told that if he kept his record of high performance up, he would be a natural shoe-in for Honorary Britannian status and could start duty regularly as a private.

Which was what the boy was apparently aiming for, to achieve his own unspoken ends. It was something he'd decided on that long ago summer, when he'd parted ways with two important friends.

As he lay on his cot after having once again refused an invitation from his fellow Eleven cadets to have some after-duty fun, Suzaku turned his thoughts towards his two childhood friends. _Where were they living now? Had they hidden themselves safely under new identities?_ So far, he had not heard any news from the official grapevine about the return (or unfortunate death) of two certain Imperial heirs, so at least he was assured on that regard.

Unable to find the impetus to sleep, Suzaku headed outside for some fresh air. The night was clear and coldly crisp, allowing him to puff out white clouds with each breath. Relaxing, he enjoyed the nighttime sky, the crescent moon shining its pale light on the earth, the stars winking in transient incandescence.

_Lelouch, Nunnally, are you guys looking at the same beautiful sky as I am?_ The boy sighed sadly._ I hope you will be able to experience, the changes I will bring to the world. _The boy's eyes flash determinedly. As he turns to head back indoors, his mind briefly sees a vision of each of his friends' respective farewells - of Nunnally's joyful smile and of Lelouch's terrible oath.

* * *

POP!

went the bubble, grown to at least the size of the man's hand's before doing so. The soapy remnants splashed on the man's chest, further moistening an already damp camouflage uniform.

The man's hooded eyes swivel to the enormous screen at the side, displaying for his convenience the images taken from cameras he had hidden in strategic places all around the area. On a certain corner was the image of the Lamperouge's base camp, the area they had chosen to hide themselves and that enormous Knightmare in.

Taking out a pack of cheap cigarettes, the man stood to exit his camp. The first thing he felt as he stepped outside was a freezing cold, and he slapped himself mentally for forgetting to put on a jacket of sorts. This caused him to shiver, holding himself close as he gazed up at the starry sky.

Portland had ordered the head of General Affairs to oversee the surveillance of the Lamperouges' first test mission himself, something the man took without complaint. (much to the Breaker's surprise) The man lit up one of the stale cigarettes, savoring not the taste, but the warmth it held.

The man stared across the horizon to his right, towards the general area where he knew the project facility had recently embedded itself. _The beauty of that thing_, the man thought,_ to be able to instantly move underground from place to place._ It had been the advantage given to the project in light of its ultimate aims, and of course its clandestine nature.

Taking a deep hit from the stick, he next looked back over the mountains to his left - within one of the ridges there, the Lamperouges hid awaiting Portland's orders to begin.

The man stretched his stiff arms, uttering, "Wish the boy was here. Need to test new chess opener."

* * *

_They lay together side by side, huddled in the darkness, arms tight around the other._

_She breaks the silence._

_"Nii-sama, they gave me new legs, I was able to walk again!"_

_The boy is happy. "Is that so? That's good to know, Nunnally!"_

_"Yep! Only," the girl looks up at the boy. "They had to drill holes in my head for it, nii-sama."_

_A hole opens in her forehead, horrifying the boy._

_"N-no..."_

_"Why didn't you help me nii-sama? I was all alone, no one helped me, not even you nii-sama...I called for you but you didn't come..."_

_"N-no, but I was..."_

_The hole widens, bloody teeth._

**_"THAT'S RIGHT! YOUR LIVES BELONG TO ME!!!"_**

Lelouch woke up screaming, forehead glistening with sweat. He caught himself after he remembered where he was - sitting inside the spacious Siege Perilous cockpit.

Wordlessly, he wiped away the sweat and then massaged tired, bloodshot eyes. He glanced at the interface before him, still displaying complex programs that he had been working on before he had drifted off to sleep.

Lelouch shook his head, letting the few droplets that had settled on his head to spray around. He realized as he looked at the screen that the last code for his latest program had yet to be added , a miss he rectified a minute later - finalizing another program to be used by the Perilous system.

It had been almost a year since he and Nunn - Subject N. had finally met, his female partner who was only a little girl. He had been quite surprised at this prospect - that this tiny slip of a girl could pilot better than he. (_Idiot! That's Nunnally! Stop-_) Well, at least he was the only one who could use the Siege Perilous system, something that he was told that Subject N. could not even remotely operate. (-_deceiving your_-)

He called up the image that displayed the camp outside, where Subject N. (-_sel-_) was seen curled up in a sleeping bag. She would have to take watch later, allowing the boy to sleep, yet somehow Lelouch wanted to prolong the time as much as possible. Exhaling loudly, he typed in a directive on the keyboard before him, starting a new program.

An hour later, he exited from his cockpit into the cold night air. He fixed his eyes on Subject N. (_-f that's_-) as he descended the full ten-story height that was the massive Morgana Knightmare Frame. He walked over to the campsite, trampling the ashes that had once been a bonfire, and made to shake Subject N. (_-N-_) awake.

He was struck by the girl's peaceful sleeping face. Her breath came out softly in small, visible puffs. _Well, sorry to do this, but it is time -_ (-_unnally!!!-_)

"Nunnally...?", he croaked, his hands shaking as they were poised above the girl. Strangely, he found tears welling up in his eyes, obscuring his vision as he stood over the girl. "No, that's wrong...Nunnally's...she's my sister...my dear sister who's.."

The boy collapsed shakily to the ground. "Yes, there's no way this girl is...Nunnally is my precious..." He crawled over to the girl and stroked her brown locks. The girl frowned in her sleep at the touch._ The face, so familiar..._ At this, Lelouch gasped, finally breaking down.

"Nunnally...no, this is another dream..." _Again, I've.._. "NUNNALLY!!!!", the boy howled into his hands.

What struck Lelouch the most, as he lay on the ground, clothes stained in ash, was the knowledge that this has occured many times before. He realized that it is a defense mechanism, a way of escaping the ugly truth, the possibility that he never took into account but came about anyway. Every time he can, he tries to block everything out, shielding himself in a mask of lies. But even with that, he could never escape into his own self-deception, as the reality facing him, facing the both of them - is for him, something that not even the worst of nightmares could replicate.

And the reality is something that drags him down painfully into hateful awareness.

Subject R. gazed emptily once more into the oppressive night sky, the cold air seemingly crushing the boy's supine frame.

* * *

_"Now that you've taken the time to acquaint yourselves, I shall then explain your purpose here."_

_She was still wrapped tightly around her brother, and he was also the same as the two of them lay side by side on the harsh cold floor. At the sound of the voice, she huddled closer to her brother, as if afraid that his presence was transient, subject to even the whims of that tyrannical figure._

_As if he understood, she felt her brother also tighten his hold on her and utter a bleak reply to the voice. It was with a weak voice, she heard, hoarser than when she'd last heard it when they were captured back on Japan._

_She felt his hand stroke her hair softly, almost encouragingly as he talked with the voice. Only later, when her brother had explained it to her, would Nunnally understand what that ill omen had demanded. Indeed, they were things that she probably would have figured out herself, despite her brother's thoughts on the contrary._

They would never be free.

The voice had reiterated it again and again, but this time the words held more weight as the reality of their condition grated harshly on the girl. Already, she knew that she would never be okay again , that she would never recover the innocence she had been forced to relinquish. The months simulating that fearsome model had taught her that.

But even if that were so, even if she were no longer the sister her brother had known, she silently prayed that he would still love her and treat her as before. Deep inside, past all the torn sentiments, was that primal longing for warmth - a warmth that could only be gotten from her brother now that Mother was long gone. The long months where there had been a huge gap between the two of them now seemed like a distant, painful memory.

And it was this desire that sparked her helpless resolution to do everything: to excel as the Devicer they seemed to want her to be, just so she could ask to stay forever with her brother. To her, this was the entirety of her current wish. That despite the horrible things they would do to her, to them, they might still be able to experience just that brief taste of peace together, as siblings.

As Lamperouges.

* * *

"What could Portland be waiting for?"

Dr. Rouche Aiyme lounged in her chair, her enthusiasm for today long gone at the fact that the Morgana would still not be sortieing for another 24 hours. That would be the boss's - Portland's call to make, and it was a call that she wanted to hear day by day.

The esteemed scientist tapped her datapad in frustration. More than the desire to obtain useful live data on the Morgana's operation was the annoying, nagging feeling she had for its Devicer, the girl known as Subject N. Over two years, the girl had proved herself to be the best Devicer to possibly handle the Morgana - based on the simulations alone. This had somehow transformed the girl for Aiyme: rather than being just another set of equipment to be easily replaced, the girl was now an important asset to the esteemed engineer. Thus, something akin to a fierce protectiveness would come over Aiyme whenever events came up that involved the girl, an emotion that she usually afforded to her own precious creations.

On a whim, she brought up the latest data on the Morgana on the datapad. Her vision from five years ago had firmly taken flight, resulting in the gargantuan Knightmare that had taken the bulk of three years to complete.

The result was a seven meter high, bulky Knightmare that was reminiscent in design of the Ganymede prototype developed by the Ashford Foundation. When she had been asked about this derivation from an old model, she had denied them all, claiming a coincidence.

But there was a truth in the design intentions which sprang from the engineer's own experience with the Ganymede years before. When she had glimpsed that model for the first time, she was awestruck by its speed and maneuverability, a rarity at that time. In the video she had seen, she had borne witness to the way the bulky Knightmare precursor had moved as if it were just a flash in the air - so quick were its movements. By then, Aiyme had been inspired, and the experience would be her guiding light as she proceeded to design her own models.

The Morgana's had been designed with its primary function as an all-terrain Knightmare whose main purpose would be in supplementing a main force where the broken landscape would prove a hindrance to conventional Landspinners. As such, the model had been fitted with her own special Landspinners, complete with a reinforced leg structure a special sakuradite magnetic coating for the occasional urban warfare.

Its secondary function, grudgingly added into the design when she joined the Lamperouge Project, was to serve as the carrier of the Siege Perilous drive. She had designed the Merlin Module for this purpose in housing the system, resulting in a conical structure that draped across the top half of the model. This led to the model's present appearance which teetered on the brink of comical, alike in appearance to, as that Valdez had described, "a walking mushroom".

At that man's name, Aiyme's brows furrowed. As the weapons designer, it was his responsibility to provide SUITABLE weaponry for the Morgana, a responsibility which the man freely shirked. As a result, what few armaments that were installed in her baby at the latest were the only ones that could have worked well with Morgana's limited core.

The weapons were unconventional, and dangerous were they to be used incorrectly. First were the Flayers that served as the model's hands. This gave the Knightmare the appearance of a clawed behemoth. The Flayers, aside from being able to cut through ten meters of hard bedrock with ease, also doubled as the model's dual harkens: Valdez's so-called "Breaker Harkens" that could pierce through twenty more meters of bedrock.

The other weaponry of note, Aiyme recalled with a grimace, were dual Gatling guns mounted on either side of the model's hips. These "Dustbelchers" had the destructive capability of a single artillery shell in each round, but Valdez had failed to remove its limitations: namely, that the guns could only fire for the maximum duration of five seconds - or risk overheating the Morgana.

These two armaments, coupled with the Merlin module's required constant activation of its quad - Factspheres, taxed the as-yet experimental core inside the Morgana, reducing its projected forty-nine minute operation time to a meager twenty-one. This potentially lead to, the board would constantly be reminded, operations limited to that amount of time. It was something that she thought to be currently impossible for the two, for Subject N. mostly, with regards to the nature of their missions.

There had been several proposals for a new way to provide a power source, but for now, Aiyme would have to bank on the Devicers' skills - now greatly dependent on efficient synchronization between the Morgana's pilot and the Siege Perilous' operator for optimum performance. The lack of progress in this direction was credited to the sakuradite - there was always an issue with the sakuradite.

Overall, The model's unique design had led to the initial projection of it being unusable by the average Knightmare pilot, a prediction that was later discredited with the arrival of Subject N. According to the simulations, the bulky Knightmare was supposed to function at 95% efficiency under that girl's command.

_In addition..._

She clicked a button on the datapad, loading once again on the screen the designs for the new model the Britannians were developing: the Z-01. Without any knowledge about this new model's specifications, there was no way for her to create a proper counter-measure for the Morgana. And without any new intel about this particular model being delivered from General Affairs, she was resigned to the fact that there would not be any, in the immediate future.

* * *

The microwave oven made a resounding ding, signaling to Portland who promptly stood up to retrieve the contents. The Breaker occasionally used this archaic device to cook certain food up that catered to the man's taste for nostalgia.

Today was fresh, popped corn. The soft, buttery delicacy was something that Portland had remembered enjoying in his innocent years, times that were shrouded in a potent haze in his mind. The popped corn's buttery scent wafted throughout the room, bringing a sense of calm to the man.

As he took his time devouring his meal, Portland kept his eyes on the status reports from the subdivision within Aiyme's department. It was their job to outfit the "Tentacles" - the Glasgows that had been outfitted with AI that would be under the Siege Perilous' control, and so far they had only completed over half of the required Knightmares.

This was the main reason, unbeknown to the division heads, for the delay in the subjects' first ever live trial run. Without the Tentacles, the Siege Perilous was rendered useless, the operator unable to complete his intended function.

His eyes caught something in the screen, something that seemed to give him great consternation. _After this,_ the man coldly noted, somehow agitated, _they will need to be disposed of. _Portland sighed irritably as he stuffed a handful of popped corn into his mouth, already contemplating the suitable replacements who would need to manage the Tentacles thereafter.

* * *

Elsewhere, Dr. Rimes Duran sulked in his room, unable to move about because of his disability and because of the fact that the Mind's Eye had been taken from him.

It was a punishment of sorts from the boss, something to teach the man after he had unwittingly comforted the two siblings who were the subjects of this project.

It had been a split-second action: after seeing the two (the boy he had just heard of but not personally met) with his portable Mind's Eye, he had proceeded to pat their heads, an action that caused the boy to recoil violently, clutching the girl in a fierce, protective way. This had confused Duran, even as he was carried out by guards ordered by Portland, who had apparently witnessed the act. He would not be able to see Subject N. from then on, as he was forced to work on something else related to the Mind's Eye. It then came to the point when the work was taken away from him entirely, shutting him in this room-turned-cell for months.

Now, without Mind's Eye or anything to keep him busy, Duran sulked, wishing again that he had discarded his heart for science completely. _There can only be many times_, the man thought as he turned over in his bed in an attempt to sleep, _before they betray you, again and again and again. _His mind briefly saw what he had remembered from the Mind's Eye of the little girl - that poor Subject.

* * *

Dear Sister,

Greetings! That white cake you delivered was very delectable. I hope to be able to taste more of Uncle Charles' secret recipes in the time to come. I will very much appreciate, once again, if you would be so kind as to send me the exact recipe, like you once did before with the mangosteen surprise.......However, I am currently working on an important assignment that will take me about a week to finish, I will write you again when I am through. My love goes to you, dear sister, and I do hope you will take care of yourself as usual.

With love,  
F.F.P.

P.S. I found a kitten underneath the pink plant! I wish you could have seen it.


	9. SubPhase 9: Unleashing the Morgana

The day was hot and the sky clear when the siblings were finally given the details and go-signal for their first operation.

Lelouch had been sitting quite far from Nunnally as usual, an act that made him uncomfortable in doing. He'd heard the beeping sounds from within the Morgana, prompting him to respond immediately by quickly scaling the seven-meter high Knightmare.

He had ignored Nunnally, whom he had placed underneath the Morgana, and who now dozed fitfully in the shade. Cursing himself for his oversight, he clambered back down, carefully picking up his sister and carrying him up to her cockpit.

"Nii-sama?" Nunnally had woken up.

"Subject N." The boy's voice tried to be harsh. "I am Subject R. right now, Subject N. Please watch yourself and your words."

"Oh, right, I'm sorry..." the girl's face, which had been relieved at her brother's touch, was now troubled, a frown crossing the beautiful face.

"No," Lelouch's voice continued gratingly. "You have nothing to apologize for, Subject N."

By the time the two had been settled into their cockpits, they were informed by the man that they had been three minutes late for the summons, though strangely enough, there was no verbal reprimand. Conversely, the man's voice seemed to be excited as it informed the siblings of the details of their first live mission.

An hour later, the Morgana started to move towards its destination, using the cover of the mountains as was recommended by Lelouch. They arrived at the designated place at nearly the end of the day, although much of the journey had been disembarking to refill the Morgana's energy reserves.

"13/20 Energy Fillers consumed. Current energy at approximately 43% remaining. Let us camp here for now, Subject N., to conserve the Morgana's reserves."

"Yes, S-s-s-ubject R.", the little girl nervously stuttered in her cockpit.

It had been a backbreaking day for the boy, as he alone was the only one capable of going out of the cockpit and refitting the energy filler. Then again, it had been Nunnally who had been driving the Morgana, keeping it under low cover throughout the journey.

"It's fine, Nunnally. It's nighttime now."

"Really? That's good then, isn't it, nii-sama?", the girl said hopefully.

For his part, Lelouch fought the urge to reach out into his sister's cockpit and hug her furiously, forgetting himself. But there was another part, a major part that thought it was hopeless and worthless to do so. Bringing his eyes to the viewscreen, he input a few more lines of code into the program he'd been developing, after which he proceeded to exit the cockpit.

Immediately, he was afflicted by a great, pungent scent, overwhelming and nearly paralyzing him as he coughed violently. Throat burning and eyes watering, he barely had the strength to reach back into his cockpit for the emergency breathing mask and put it on. Although the smell was subdued, it was still there, faintly, seemingly composed of all the foul odors that man and nature could conjure.

After informing Nunnally about the condition outside, he escaped into his cockpit to review information on their future battlefield. As the images from the briefing streamed in, he was aware of a certain dull feeling in his emotions, an aura of resignation emanating from him as he read on.

The place where they had hidden themselves close by was apparently a shanty town. It had been established upon the ashes of a destroyed city - a remnant of a bygone war. From the briefing, Lelouch had ascertained that they were now in Africa, as it had described in detail the presence of numerous resident gangs that currently divided the town amongst themselves.

The town in itself was not special; its inhabitants were only connected to the outside world by means of a lone bridge that lead to the national highway, a bridge that changed hands in an almost daily occurrence. What apparently interested the voice in the town, as Lelouch guessed from the information, was the presence of pseudo-Knightmare Frames: piecemeal junkbots made from the stolen bits and pieces of Glasgow carcasses. It was with these things that the gangs tried to assert their authority over the others; giving rise to the little wars that now defined the inhabitant's daily happenings.

After reading through the information and analyzing the town's geography, Lelouch next scanned through the data on the custom Glasgows that would be under his control. Their familiar designation and numbers sent the boy's eyebrows soaring, a fact that would have amused him greatly under happier circumstances.

* * *

"...the Morgana will be responsible for destroying over 50% of the enemy units: any less and I will consider the mission a failure. A failure, as you well know, that will need a proper reprimand..."

Nunnally had listened to the words with dry acquiescence. It had been almost a year since she'd started to realize the fact that the simulations had been training her to kill enemy pilots, and it had taken that same amount of time to inure her to this fact.

For the girl, there was nothing wrong with bloodying her hands; there was nothing that would stand in the way of spending her entire time with her dear brother. All these atrocities that she would have to commit – violence that scarred her each time she did so, she sealed within. Her outrage at this defilement of her inner being was smothered by obstinate denial.

_Yes, if it is for nii-sama's sake..._

Nunnally did not mind the hateful fact of having to call her brother by an alien name. She did not mind that he was somewhat cold and aloof to her at times, because she knew that it would be replaced with undying warmth sometime in the future.

_So it's no problem at all...I'll show them...I'll show them what I can accomplish..._

Nunnally's hands tightened on the cockpit controls.

"Nunnally, if you want to rest, you can sleep now. I still have some things to prepare."

"Yes, nii-sama. Be sure to get your good night's sleep too, okay?"

For tonight, she decided to sleep inside; from the knowledge about the foul air from her brother, she preferred to have an untroubled sleep before their mission - even if it was spent huddled over the Morgana's controls.

_And in the darkness, there is a light. The light reveals once again...scenes of a happier past._

* * *

_The boy sits on the roof, shrouded in a long brown cloak that shielded him from the cold night. The cloak is wrapped around his mouth to block out the constant pungent air that had imbued the town._

_The boy watches his prey amble in, drunk with ecstasy and looking forward to another day of bloodbath. He would never experience another wild night, for tonight he would be drunk in the scent of his own blood._

_The boy descends into the man's room where he waits, crouched in a corner like a tiger in the tall grass. He waits for the man's drunken footsteps, barely flinching at the gunshots that resounded._

_The boy hears him coming, boots jingling, voice singing an obscene melody. The door opens, allowing the man to amble in, movement slow and jarred, holding a bottle in one hand and a gun in the other._

_The boy attacks, flinging his cloak at the man as the door closes. He hears the man curse, gun cocked audibly. The man, for a split second, flings away the cloak, aiming his gun at the intruder._

_The boy hits deep, crude knife stolen from the man's guards embedded deep in the latter's neck. The blade is twisted as the man collapses to the floor in a bloody heap, brown cloak shrouding his dying frame like a funeral veil._

_The boy leaves the way he comes, through the window and up to the roof. Just then, an ill wind passes, fluttering the boy's sandy hair as he looks for his new objective. The boy notices a glint in his vision, and stares briefly at the mountains where it had come from. The boy's eyes narrow, the carnation pupils gleaming in the starlit darkness._

* * *

The scorching heat that would engulf them on the day of operations would be an uncomfortable handicap for the two would-be Devicers as they were forced to bake inside tight compartments within their massive Knightmare Frame.

The units that Lelouch would take command of had been delivered earlier in the pre-dawn hours via low-flying aircraft. The operator of the Siege Perilous had taken the rest of the hours before sunrise to acquaint himself with these specialized Glasgows - as he'd been taught to do.

They were, as he read about yesterday, ten in number, with their designations and roles very similar to what had been set out for him back in the simulations. For instance, the two "Rooks" were still the heavy fire support, carrying artillery packs that would prove useful in the coming engagement. The "Bishops" still specialized in pinpoint Knightmare sniping, the "Knights" with their focus on melee weaponry and then of course, the "Pawns" were the same hardy, conventional six-pack that they had been.

For now, following the battle plan he'd laid out for this mission, he had the little pieces stealthily move into position, consuming an entire energy filler in the process. This predicament had fallen well into his allotments for the mission, which was why before they could begin, he and Nunnally stood by within their respective cockpits - now turned into virtual furnaces with the deactivation of the Morgana.

* * *

Sweat dripping slowly down her nape, Nunnally kept her hands firmly gripped on the controls, waiting for her brother's signal to strike. As the Mind's Eye could only be turned on with the activation of the Morgana, for now she was left in complete darkness inside the sweltering cockpit.

She had avidly listened to the battle plan laid out by her brother, dictated softly over the communications link.

"Subject - no, Nunnally...I hope you can do well...I know you can do well." her brother had concluded.

She heart had swelled at this now-rare occurrence of her brother calling her by her name again, and was also delighted at his obvious concern - a feeling that had been transmitted well through the sound waves.

Outwardly, one would say that the girl was calm and composed - ready for the battle that she would participate in. Inwardly, however, she was a bit nervous: the massive Knightmare that she was told would easily rip enemies to shreds up close and at range could just as well serve as her brother's coffin, if she made the wrong moves.

And that was how and why she steeled herself for success in the mission - the safeguard of her brother's safety.

* * *

What Lelouch was waiting for, peering through the window of his cockpit, were the signs of conflict between the gangs: any signs of gunfire or rusted metal crashing against each other would be the go-signal for the operation to start.

It had been one of the conditions that was needed to lead the way for further ones to be cleared, for he was severely limited by the Morgana's operation time. With a bare twenty-one minutes, the model would have to execute its goals quickly within that timeframe, factoring in the time spent ordering the pieces about and of course, extracting out. It would be extremely risky to consider refilling the energy manually in the middle of the battlefield – the Morgana would turn into a literal sitting duck if he did so.

And that would leave Nunnally defenseless without him, easy prey for the depraved beings that made this town their lethal playground. And that was a possibility he did not want to factor in his plan

Almost an hour later of drudging in his own sweat, consuming an entire bottle of rationed water in the process, the signal he was looking for finally came.

A plume of smoke marked where an explosion had occurred, and with its appearance came the predictable sounds of combat seconds later as the pseudo-Knightmares roared to life. Down there, it even Lelouch's unaided eyes could see the swarm of humanoid figures beginning their daily genocide.

He activated the commlink, signaling Nunnally. "Subject N. It's time to begin."

"...Yes."

With a mechanical hiss as countless mechanical joints shifted, the crouched Knightmare rose to its full height, crimson eyes glowing to signal its awakening. Its grisly golden claws glinted in the harsh sunlight as they were stretched by their master. Factspheres, four in total, opened up where they were around the conical structure on its body, emitting a distinct noise as they did so. The Landspinners that had been tucked behind the mech's legs lowered to the ground with an audible thud.

In her cockpit, Nunnally tensed as the Mind's Eye activated fully, the brightly colored images of the town blooming in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she then gripped the controls with hands that were tingling with anxiety.

Inside the rapidly activating Siege Perilous, Lelouch watched the ongoing information being displayed on the screen. He rubbed his hands as the wide, complicated keyboard moved slowly into place, eagerly awaiting his touch. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, probably giving himself a form of self-assurance, before readying his hands on the keys.

"Core energy currently at 98%. Estimated time remaining: twenty minutes and thirty-nine seconds. All units, we have the green signal." His fingers began tapping on the keys rapidly.

"Begin operation!"

* * *

It had been a simple dispute: a gang's boss had been found dead, knife buried deep in his neck, and his former subordinates cast suspicious glances on their arch-rivals. Calling upon their allies, they had taken the initiative in destroying the first of the enemy robots. It would become their first and easiest kill.

The other unaffiliated gangs refrained from joining in, claiming disinterest - a position undoubtedly belonging to their leaders. The currently warring gangs did not mind: the city had turned into a battlefield all the same.

The pseudo-hangars belonging to the clans were filled with the sounds of the machinery activating, of guns swiftly being loaded with ammunition and of the sounds of hulking strides as the mechs moved out.

The great creaking robots lumbered into their positions, taking whatever cover they could find and firing their improvised weapons when they could find a target, any target.

Soon, the smell of burning diesel filled the air as the battle went on, fires raging unchecked on robot carcasses as they exploded loudly in an inglorious fashion. If the fires died out, these would later be cannibalized by survivors - if there were any.

A particularly monstrous robot was brought out by one gang, its driver the gangleader himself. It strode into the fray, shoulder-mounted cannons blazing and gigantic buzzsaw whirring menacingly. It had just disposed of its third kill, operator cackling maniacally, before it happened.

The driver's battle-hardened senses could discern a whistling sound, of something sailing through the air, but he was too late to discover what it as an artillery shell shattered his robot and the area around him.

Before the ones nearby could collect themselves from the sudden death of their leader, another barrage had sailed through, crashing into more of their number. The rapid destruction of so many robots at once alerted the remaining combatants, who quickly scattered as fast as their robots could carry them.

The bystanders were perplexed at this new development: they had also heard the projectiles and had assumed that the attacks had merely come from one of the gangs. Their assumption changed as they came under fire too: entire lines of their unmanned robots obliterated in seconds.

With this development, the other gangs started mobilizing in an effort to destroy the one gang that had dared to attack them. This resulted in a bloodbath of destruction as robot aimed at robot without a care for identity.

A few more destructive barrages set the cooler minds thinking as they ascertained the source of this attack. With crude scouting devices, the ones who survived the next attacks were able to discover the source of the barrages, a few excitedly pointing in the direction of the ridges beyond the bridge.

Those who were lucid enough to hear the excited jabbering of these people looked with uncertainty at the ridge, unsure of what to do. It was then with the promptings of the remaining gangleaders that a gathering of the robots organized enough to start marching to the bridge. The attacks did not abate however, as more and more of their numbers were destroyed as they were ordered.

Finally, it was a smaller, more organized force that managed to reach the bridge. This "united" force had their orders: to capture whatever was doing those attacks. Although secretly each gang leader wanted to possess those weapons for themselves; but for now, they knew they had to present a strong front against this external intruder.

Bellowing a strange war-cry in their cockpits, the men urged their robots on, great steel giants barreling down with echoing footsteps on the asphalt - guns blazing, spewing hot fire in the direction of the mountain.

That was the cue for the destruction to begin.

* * *

The Morgana lurked within the shadows of the bridge supports, the Factspheres registering the pseudo-Knightmares that were charging overhead. Like a sinister stalactite it hung on the bridge's underside, great Landspinners sticking like hot glue to the surface.

After Lelouch watched the mechs lumbering overhead, he signaled Nunnally, who then started "phase two" of their operation.

Crimson eyes gleaming, the Morgana launched both of its oversized Harkens at specific bridge supports, shattering the concrete columns. Quickly retracting them, Nunnally next aimed the harkens at the remaining supports, destroying those columns as well.

As the bridge started to collapse, the Morgana swiftly dashed with its unique Landspinners towards the underside of the bridge where the town's entrance was, its golden claws shining in anticipation.

* * *

It was a sound that some of them heard, echoing from under the bridge, but they would only discover what it was about when the earth was suddenly pulled out from beneath their feet. The others had only heard a slight tremor, the precursor to the asphalt beneath them cracking - too late for them to look down and notice.

As one, the entire "united" troop fell, dragged down by the collapsing bridge. The drivers' voices could be heard howling in consternation as they crashed onto the filthy, polluted water. Some of these would be silenced as robot crashed on top of robot in a heap, the impact igniting both.

There was a moment of silence as surviving gangleaders ferally barked orders amid the creaking sounds of the recovering robots and concrete settling into the water. It was soon broken by what seemed to be the sound of projectiles hurtling through the air as a barrage, greater in magnitude than the previous ones, hit their mark - obliterating the pile of robots that had been gathered.

The chain reaction of explosions sent a great plume of smoke to rise into the air, marking the place where the grand devastation had taken place.

* * *

Lelouch only took a confirmatory glance at the information of the elimination of the forces that had gathered on the bridge, as he was already moving the rest of his "pieces" to attack from their positions within the city.

"Core Energy at 60.1%. Estimated operation time remaining in the operation: eleven minutes and thirteen seconds. Let's get it done, Subject N."

There was no confirmation to be had from Nunnally but the sudden increase in the Morgana's speed. The girl had been informed that she would have to destroy the remaining pseudo-Knightmares on her own - the other pieces her brother controlled would only be providing suppressing fire.

What the girl saw as she drove the Morgana on in its mission of destruction was a ruined city, not so much different from the ones she had been simulating. Filthy, dilapidated buildings covered its surface, dotted here and there by strange, barbaric markings. The air still reeked of smoke and the din of battle, caused by the mechs who had ignored the orders to the bridge and had given in to the lust of battle.

She had felled three of their number already, easily shredding them with the Morgana's claws. With each kill, her heart seemed to recoil, a slight feeling that disappeared when another enemy would start attacking her.

"Subject N., BEHIND!"

Nunnally quickly reacted, bringing up the image of what was behind her in a milli-second. She smoothly ducked behind a nearby building to avoid the mech's fire, not stopping to move as she circled around the building to impale the attacker from behind.

There was one thing that she liked about the actual Morgana: it was fast! It was a severe contrast to her normal lifestyle of invalidity, a significantly uplifting experience to this girl who had limited mobility herself. For even with the implants, she could not walk for long nor jump and skip, yet here she was controlling the behemoth that could easily scale a vertical surface.

Such thoughts raced in her mind as she continued to dispatch the enemies, an action that had become second-nature to her after all those days simulating.

Nunnally was also happy, happy that she was doing her best keeping her brother safe. Although it was his plan and his careful monitoring that kept them aware, it was her hand on the controls, her skill that made the Morgana into the killing machine that it was created to be. A machine that also served to protect her and her brother. So she thought, already satisfied with how well she was doing.

Just then, her brother's voice returned, smooth and deep, over the link.

"Let's take advantage of this building, Subject N. The closest targets are in a perfect position to..."

She couldn't help it: she giggled softly. Her brother seemed to ignore the fact that he was gradually sounding more and more like a man.

Lelouch was suprised at this, had something happened to her inside the cockpit? "What is it N- Subject N.? Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing,"came the giggling reply. "I just realized your voice sounded cooler, _nii_-er Subject R."

The boy was so surprised that he stopped tapping the keyboard for a moment, stunned by this statement. True, my voice has somehow changed over the past year, but why could that be a reason to-

Blushing slightly, he cleared his throat. What is she saying? She knows that this conversation is obviously being recorded! "No more lighthearted talk, Subject N. Time's slowly running out and we still have more of those to destroy."

"Yes~~"

* * *

They had been a minor gang, only composing of thirteen members. They had been told that thirteen was an unlucky number, which so far had been proven right, as they were easily displaced from their meager territories. Yet, they somehow were able to hold on to their rapidly deteriorating robots.

Today was also proving to be an unlucky day as three of their number was instantly obliterated without warning, chipping their number down to 10; and then they came under the crossfire of the gangs, destroying three more of their comrades.

Now, the remnants were moving, hoping to take advantage of the chaos to claim a piece of territory themselves. This would be probably be the moment when their fortunes reverse!

The self-proclaimed leader of this group was the only one who noticed that the shadow of the building next to them had grown in size, almost engulfing the lot of them. He looked up, and before he could even shout a warning, the falling building had crushed the entirety of his gang.

_What kind of luck is this_, he said in his native tongue. His tirade of expletives expressing his outrage would be shortlived, however, as his robot was suddenly impaled, crushing the man inside his cockpit.

* * *

_The boy had been secure, having hidden himself adequately near his next target. He would strike in the night, as usual, to promote the feeling of fear that he was ordered to perpetrate._

_The boy was confused, jolted from his meditative sleep as gunfire erupted, telltale signs of the battle. He had expected that to happen, but not in this magnitude._

_The boy heard great explosions over the din of battle. Screams uttered in the native tongue were the markers of the defeated - or unfortunate bystanders._

_The boy clambered out of his hiding place, judging the area to be dangerous to be in. He did not know what was happening, but he did not want to die yet._

_The boy had not been ordered to die._

_The boy ran outside, immediately heading for cover, shielding his ears from the loud bray of weapons firing. More explosions, more visions of fire, less people to kill._

_The boy paused in his flight, ears picking up the familiar sounds of artillery crashing down. He looked up past the grey clouds of smoke, seeing the shell for a brief second before it crashed, making a great noise._

_The boy frowned: the situation had made it even more dangerous for him to be out in the open. He had to find high ground, away from the center of the conflict._

_The boy entered a building in the outskirts, tall and remote, its former occupants having joined the battle. He made haste in climbing the stairs into the upper floors, intent on having a better view of the battle._

_The boy saw what he wanted to see, though the carnage was now thickly hidden behind a constant veil of black smoke, clouds expelled as the Knightmares exhaled their final breath. He would have to report on this development, there was a chance that his targets may have died already._

_The boy glimpsed through the smoke, something big moving swiftly over the rubble. A brand-new creation by the gangs? The blur moved swiftly to and fro, weaving expertly through the streets. He saw as it seemed to fell the Knightmares it had gone near with, marked by a distinct explosion._

_The boy saw, running before its advance, people on foot - whether innocent bystanders or unarmed gangs, he did not deign to guess. Yet the big frame did not seem to specifically target them, instead, it kept on moving from frame to frame, destroying each with ease._

_The boy saw it up close for a split second as it passed by; it seemed to resemble a gigantic mushroom of sorts as he looked up at it. His eyes narrowing, he was just about to move to track its progress before a shell hit the building - the force of its impact shattering the foundations._

_The boy instantly dashed towards the stairs, heading for the roof. Once there, he waited for a chance, to either jump to the nearby building as this one fell or brace for impact. He would have neither, as the roof seemed to want to go first._

_The boy abruptly jumped off, a split-second decision, hardly sane but desperate nonetheless. He hoped to be able to recover quickly, as he knew he would be receiving major injuries as he landed._

_The boy saw the ground coming close and he braced as the air sailed past him swiftly. He closed his eyes, waiting for impact._

_The boy felt an impact, but it was too abrupt. It also felt quite different, he felt as if he landed on something metallic._

_The boy opened his eyes, shocked at what he was seeing. The unknown behemoth from before had caught him in midair, and he was now sitting in the palm of its hand. He flinched as he saw the long, serrated claws attached: almost thrice his size. He then stared back up at his supposed savior that was now placing him gently on the ground._

_The boy stepped off its palm, stunned at what he had experienced, and gazed in awe at the towering Knightmare he saw before him. With an ear-splitting screech, the frame left, causing the boy to lose his balance at the sudden exit._

_The boy stared in the direction that the frame had went with a confused gaze that was expressed in his clear, carnation pupils._

* * *

Nunnally had a strange feeling as she steered the Morgana away after using it to save a single inhabitant from falling to his grisly end.

She had seen them. The people unarmed, running before her no, before the Morgana like scurrying ants. This had been the time that the strange feeling had manifested, causing her to limit the Morgana's movements to avoid running over anyone - even going as far as jumping over whole crowds.

She had been alerted by her brother of an incoming enemy attack, a large rocket that she easily evaded. She had used the Mind's Eye to glance back briefly at the place of impact, already plotting a route of attack towards the attacker.

It was then that she saw the unmistakable figure of someone falling from the collapsing building. Time had seemed to slow as she instantly reversed the Morgana back in the direction she had come. She had carefully extended the model's arms, hoping and praying that the outstretched claws would not impale him instead.

That strange feeling had then struck her like a gale as she lowered the man onto the ground. It was a feeling that gave birth to thoughts in her mind: thoughts of derision at her own hypocrisy, at this killer who had already claimed many lives yet risked herself to save one.

It was a feeling that stayed with her as she used the guns to shred the offending pseudo-Knightmare to pieces. A thought then occurred to her, an answer her mind had apparently discovered.

"That's right, it's for _nii-sama's_ sake...The defenseless people who aren't piloting Knightmares - they are not the enemies."

* * *

Lelouch for his part was now pondering what Nunnally had just done. As operator of the Siege Perilous that had no control over the Morgana itself, he could only sit and watch as his sister ignored his warnings over the commlink to drive the Morgana to save the man. Deep inside, he knew it was a noble act, but it was an act that wasted time all the same.

The boy glanced at the timer that read the energy remaining in the Morgana, and then his eyes next quickly read the amount of enemies that could be discerned by his Factspheres.

He opened up his commlink again. "Subject N., there are approximately fourteen more enemies to destroy. Core energy is at 23% , operation time remaining estimated at four minutes and four seconds. We must hurry." He consulted the radar HUD showing the location of the remaining units. With a tap he ordered the Rooks to cease bombardment and at the same time ordering the rest of his pieces to start falling back.

"The next ones will be right around that building..."

* * *

Starry night had already fallen when the man arrived astride his all-terrain motorcycle on a ridge overlooking the town. He coughed lightly as he waved off the dust that smothered his face as he stopped the vehicle. When his vision cleared, he was able to dimly glimpse the town as the Lamperouges had left it.

As he dismounted, he took a number of recording devices from the pack strapped to the motorcycle. These were the most powerful and state-of-the-art things that money could buy, a necessity for a project such as this. After picking what he needed, the man started descending the path leading down from the ridge, balancing the devices precariously on his arms. After pushing through thick foliage, he was finally able to get a clear glimpse of the town.

Had he not been wearing a special mask at that moment, he would have been assailed with a great, pungent smell, a powerful, cloying scent of decay and death. The odor was a combination of the smells of bodies decaying and that of metal and rubber burning. They seemed to stem from what he beheld in front of him: a grand scene of devastation. He saw fires that had continued to rage, piles upon piles of corpses being gathered, and the telltale chunks of metal that had once been a large tool of battle.

As he set to work recording the images, the man's eyes would be drawn to the actions and behavior of the survivors: of a number fighting bare-handed on the streets, of some salvaging the carcasses that had their fires cool off, and lastly, a number who set to looting whatever they could lay their hands on - even the dead.

It was almost midnight before he was done: Portland had ordered that every detail be painstakingly recorded, from the craters formed from the artillery strikes to the great, shattered bridge. As he warmed his himself with a lit cigarette, he watched the great plumes of smoke drift up and away, obscuring the night sky for the town.

Down below, he knew, things would continue as usual for the town's inhabitants, this massacre apparently just the latest of many that had occurred in the past. And many still lived: some gangs had still endured. And although inevitably the gangs would arise yet again to dominate the town; here and now at least, there was a temporary peace.

"Mission: successful?" The man asked himself as he puttered away, leaving the smoldering town behind him.

* * *

Excerpt from Special After-action Report 001

"The Lamperouges' first mission was a resounding success: a bloody beginning for both the Morgana's pilot and the Merlin module's operator. The splintered gangs and their leaders could do nothing against the superior tactics laid out by the invader; and not even the hulks of steel that they had staked their pride on could withstand the ferocity displayed by the Morgana that day. The Lamperouges had descended like lightning on the unsuspecting gangs, and they just as quickly vanished - fading like a swift breeze into the mountains. Entire gangs, holding power that were inherited throughout the years, had been annihilated in a single day. (deleted) would not see another organization rise into power for many years thereafter: so crippling was the void that was forcefully created by the Morgana and its Devicers...."


	10. SubPhase 10: An Innocence Lost

The esteemed engineer, Dr. Rouche Aiyme, tried and failed once more to stifle another emetic breakdown as she dashed in her bare underwear towards the safety of her bathroom.

"...why didn't they give me pills..."

After a particularly long vomiting session, she looked up from the sink into the image of her own reflection in the mirror. It was a haggard, frustrated Aiyme that greeted her, so very different from the cold, determined face that usually greeted her every morning. Her light-green hair was strewn about in bedraggled tufts, some draping over her face to obscure the emerging wrinkles.

She sniffed as she rubbed her abdomen, the source of all her problems._ If it wasn't for this thing here_, she thought as she rubbed it fiercely, _I wouldn't be having this predicament! If only -_

Suddenly, nothing else happened of note as she returned to lie back in her bed. She had been recommended to take extensive amounts of rest during the initial stages by the physicians that had been assigned here. However, that did not stop her from continuing her work while in bed, condition be damned.

The esteemed engineer lifted the laptop, one of the things she had pilfered off of General, and placed it beside her on the bed to continue the work that had been interrupted. On the screen was a collection of special action reports from hundreds of operations that the Morgana had participated in. Each of these would be necessary in evaluating the model's performance, as well as to-

She flinched when she sensed the danger signs coming again. The woman had already grown used to it and had learned to anticipate it when it came.

Abruptly, the whole world seemed to turn on its side as the facility around her groaned and creaked like some wounded whale. She rose from the bed, bringing her laptop with her as she walked to the nearby table, swaying all the while to retain balance.

As she held on to the table for support as the room seemed to literally fall sideways, she once again cursed the "facility", the so-called technological marvel that allowed clandestine projects to operate in international waters, free from the country's laws that would have governed them otherwise.

Only a few of its kind had been made, as they were expensive to manufacture, requiring literal trillions to be funneled to create this imposing "floating laboratory". At first she had been fascinated at this invention, a leviathan made from science's hands, but she soon got rid of that ill-conceived thought as she spent the past four years experiencing the crippling effects of severe motion sickness.

Although the facility did not need to move all the time, as she had experienced during the first two years of its operation; the time when the subjects had begun their operations had necessitated all these frequent trips over the sea - the first of which had been straight over the Atlantic to that long-ago first mission in Africa.

Now, the gargantuan vessel was braving the Pacific Ocean, making for the coasts of Area 12, another one of the Britannian Empire's conquered areas. Along the way, it had run through one of the storms that would occasionally crop up from this vast ocean, a storm that Portland obstinately wanted to pass through.

Although Aiyme and some others had lodged their formal complaints, those had still come to nothing as the corpulent chief issued the orders to charge like some misguided captain. With that, the entire crew was now braving the raging, turbulent sea, causing much grief to Aiyme as she rushed to relieve herself once more.

The goldfish flopped silently as it slowly died in the open air, broken free from its bowl in one of the constant turns the room had taken.

* * *

The man known as Valdez sprang up to life, abruptly awakened to consciousness by his own assistants after a failed experimental attempt.

Valdez furiously waved off the entreaties and concerns from his assistants as he rose to regard the smoking vessel that had once been an experimental weapon. It had taken all of three months to develop (although he had done other required things all the while) and three seconds to utterly destroy.

The man muttered furiously as he checked his datapad once more, adjusting some things with an impatient tapping. After he was done, he began pacing, kicking aside the failed creation as he did so.

Several hours later would find the man's assistants screaming hopelessly as they were given their latest orders from the eccentric: orders that needed to be carried out, or risk facing disposal much like other personnel had suffered over the years.

"Yep. It just needs to be bigger...how stupid I was to start small." The man snorted as he laughed heartily, a jovial and boisterous cackle.

* * *

Duran sat silently in his workroom, blind once more as the Mind's Eye system disengaged around his vision. He had been testing the Mind's Eye, the latest in a series of maintenance protocols he was required to do.

There was nothing important however, for him to note. The Mind's Eye as it was in its current version was perfect, functioning exactly as he'd planned it to be. It was a resounding success, the culmination of almost ten years of labor. He had even developed a portable version of the device now which, although a breakthrough at this point, was a mere sidegrade nonetheless.

But the man felt as if there was something more that could be added: _perhaps a certain feature that needed to be explored, or a way for the radius to be expanded, allowing the user a vision that was vastly superior to even those who could see?_ Such ideas swirled in the man, though he could not act on it, limited as he was to the scope of this project.

The man knew that although the Mind's Eye was his brain-child, he would never be able to fully explore its capabilities for everyday living, in light of its birth having been facilitated by this project, whose aims were not of a peaceful manner.

Briefly, the man's thoughts dwelled on the subjects, most especially the girl whom he had not seen for almost two years - a very long time indeed for a man like Duran, who thought of his condition as something that lasted for a lifetime.

* * *

The cool Pacific breeze beat softly on Nunnally's face, making her ample brown locks sway gently with its touch. The sounds of the waves crashing noisily upon the place were the only ones that could be heard over the incessant humming that the facility emitted.

Here she sat, on a platform overlooking the city, her legs swinging freely over the edge. And here was her brother, hugging her from behind as his legs did the same.

It was "free time", as the voice had described it, a quiet period for her and her brother, temporarily free from the rigors of their servitude.

Her brother had told her that she was wearing a bright, yellow jumpsuit, thick enough to ward off the night chill. It certainly did its job well, as she visualized it, but she knew, as she leaned back smiling into her brother's warmth, that all the warmth she could ever want was right here.

Gently she touched the hands that were crossed in front of her, feeling the rough and callous surface that were the marks of her brother's service. Yet despite its deformity, they were still her brother's kind hand, so near yet so far.

"Lelouch?"

"Hmm? What is it, Nunnally?"

And there was that other thing too. Slowly, she felt herself and her brother changing, seemingly growing bigger with each passing month. It did not just start with her brother's gradually deepening voice; the changes were felt within her too. She felt herself growing, little by little, in tune with her brother who seemed to be experiencing the same. There were also those pain periods that the doctors had taught her about, how she would be getting those almost every month now - the times when every day she sat in the cockpit was a grueling exercise, causing her to scream loudly every time. (Out of her brother's earshot of course) These episodes would pass, but they were something to dread looking forward to, nonetheless.

She knew about all this, these had been taught to her before, but it was a disconcerting change nonetheless, assuring her with utter finality that the door to childhood had been irrevocably closed.

"It's nothing...just thinking about stuff." She turned her head to snuggle into her brother's neck. So warm.

She wanted to preserve these moments for as long as she could before the inevitable, terrible summons would come, before she would be forced, once again, to take on the role of a killer. And that was something her mind didn't want to dwell on for long - an iron willed, steadfast rejection.

* * *

_The city had joined the many that had burned, as its inhabitants scurry to flee like mice from the conflict, from the juggernaut's destructive path._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_A cold, snowy place. Somewhere in the mountains, a group of rebels and their Knightmares are crushed, buried deep in the unforgiving snow._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_An ash plain that had once been a sunflower field. In the center was a heap of burnt slag, the remains of a once proud battalion of pilots. They did not even have the grace of prayer as they burnt agonizingly inside their coffins._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_They fall like boulders from the cliff, their weapons trailing behind them. Those that don't explode on crashing to the bottom are unceremoniously buried under huge boulders sent down by the towering behemoth perched on the cliff's edge._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_The Britannians never knew what waited for them in the forest. Foolishly, they tried to ascertain the source of that devastating artillery barrage, not knowing the fate of the camp they left behind as it was methodically demolished by unidentified entities. They advanced proudly, without fear, without knowledge of the event that would rob them of their brief lives._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_The rebels did not think that they would be discovered in their seaside base, a simple fishermen's village. The Knightmares buried in the clear sand slowly emerged, a swift response to the alarm. Yet they were not prepared for that thing that emerged from the Pacific water, like some terrible sea-creature, that started to belch forth a hot destructive breath._

**_"Operation complete!"_**

_A hundred battlefields, flashing before him. An endless stream of blood and fuel seems to flow before him like a grisly river. The screams of the few innocents who had been involved, screams forever silenced, valid all the while. Throughout it all he had sat, his mind burning, his eyes a deep void, mirroring the harsh and bitter dullness that -_

Lelouch was broken from his thoughts by his sister's call. He remembered where he was, sitting on an external platform with Nunnally during one of their "free times", an event that obscured that obvious reason of there being nothing to occupy that man's interests for now.

He watched his sister lean back closer to him, wearing a look of contentment in her face. He was grieved to see her show this kind of face, on Nunnally the Devicer of the Morgana. It pained him secretly to see his sister smile joyfully at him after every other operation, seemingly oblivious to the ugly fact that stared them in the face._ Was it a fierce denial she was practicing? Living in a sad illusion, a simulacrum of normalcy?_

But Lelouch was satisfied to live with that illusion, with the lies that were inevitably part and parcel of their continued existence here. It was, the boy concluded as he stared out over the darkened waves, their new fact of life.

The youth smiled as he lightly poked his sister's cheek. _She grows more beautiful each day-_

He flinched as he heard a distinct click behind him, signifying someone's presence. _Was "free time" over now?_

His eyebrows rose slightly when he saw who was leaning on the railing behind them. It was the hunched, squint-eyed man, holding a lit cigarette between curiously bandaged hands. The man bowed his head slightly. Unconsciously, the boy tightened his hold on his sister.

"Greetings. A coincidence meeting you here."

"What do you want?" the boy asked in a low, threatening tone.

The man said nothing, rubbing the burning stick between his hands while staring out at the water with veiled eyes.

For Lelouch, one of the facility's major unknowns was this hunched man, one who had constantly hounded him for chess games every other day before his reunion with Nunnally. During those times, the boy had reluctantly shared his private thoughts and ideas, things that the man somehow silently took in. Over time, he'd lost the guarded tension around the man, preferring to think him as an oddity of sorts.

He would not be meeting the man for a time since being reunited with Nunnally, something which might have been beneficial for him at the time; but ever since they'd both started their hateful operations, he'd then started to get used to meeting this man every other operation.

The man tended to appear out of thin air, as he'd once did when he was first introduced to Nunnally. He'd be unexpectedly waiting in their extraction point in one instance, or be literally sleeping near their camp in another. Because of this, his sister had somehow developed the notion that this man was a jolly, helpful sort, a refreshing difference from the rest in the facility. In a sense, he was probably just that.

Lelouch on the other hand, knew far better than to trust this man completely. He had recalled the man's many empty encouragements and pointed questions in their sessions, all spoken in a way which the boy saw as condescending.

Presently the man slipped the stick into his mouth and took a hit, coughing lightly as he exhaled. "Condition. Passable?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Because," the man flicked the cigarette between his hands, "Usual entertainment. Need to know how far I can go. Against you, of course."

"Even so, why does it have to be me?"

"No fighter of your caliber here. Didn't I say before? No?" The man sighed dramatically.

"...What happened to those?" Lelouch deflected as he looked at the bandage-covered hands.

"This?" The man placed the cigarette in his mouth and raised the hands for emphasis. "Required to do something offshore. Area 12 is a tempestuous place. Got into embarrassing situation. Had to use...force."

Lelouch raised his eyebrows at the mention of the "embarrassing situation". Deciding to be curious, he asked, "What kind of-"

"Classified. Sorry to say. But assured, nothing concerning you.", the man was the man's blunt reply, though he then started muttering something indistinct to his side.

Feeling the boy's confused gaze, the man straightened somewhat comically. "Curious question." the man said as he flicked away cigarette ash, "Aside from previous one. Satisfied with life?"

Again, he asks these kinds of things. The boy thought seethingly. The boy frowned as he replied, "Oh yes, we just fine here being your playthings and all." He laughed softly. "Just fine..."

The man paused to think as the cigarette's end smoldered. "No. Too obviously insincere. Those cannot be your true thoughts, Lelouch Lampe-"

"Will you stop it!", the boy had raised his voice. "All these questions you ask, as if you didn't know the answer already! Yes, we're fine! Why? Because we're fine as long as we do your bidding. Yes, we're satisfied! Why? Because," his voice broke, "because at least we're together even as slaves. Ironic, isn't it, even if we don't like it, we're still happy - we're happy even if it's sad! So, I ask again, is this another test? If so, then I am sure that I have already failed many times, yet the fact that I am still here with Nunnally tells that it is not. What then? Are you just here to test my reactions? To fill your amusements with our plight, to objectively look down on us like one of your chess pieces? If so, then stop fooling around! We have enough, more than enough to occupy us better than to listen you ramble on about how we might be able to - "

"Lelouch?", his sister had woken up, most likely from the high volume his voice had reached. Glaring silently at the man as he breathed heavily, he placed a hand on Nunnally's head and said in a subdued tone, "I'm very sorry for waking you, Nunnally."

"What's wrong, Lelouch? Why were you yelling just now?", Nunnally asked worriedly.

"No, it's nothing Nunnally. Just...", he glanced at the man again. "Saying stupid stuff..."

"I feel someone behind...who's that, Lelouch?", his sister frowned behind her.

"Greetings, Nunnally. Me. It's me." The boy disdainfully noted the man smile warmly at his sister.

"Oh, it's good to hear you again! How have you been, Mister?" As the man had not named himself, Nunnally had settled on calling him that instead.

"Fine. Just here to enjoy night wind. And to trade words with your brother." The man seemed to disregard the boy's dagger-like glare.

"What were you talking about, Lelouch? Was that thing earlier because of that talk?"

"Probably just a little bit, Nunnally.", Lelouch replied, still glaring at the bemused man. "But it's nothing now, like I said, they were just stupid stuff."

"Mister, if I learn that you've been upsetting my brother, then you'll have me to answer to!", his sister declared in a half-serious, half-jesting manner.

"Dear lady," the man drawled, ignoring the boy's wrathful face. "Assuredly, assuredly. 'Twas just stupid stuff, like brother said. Just a question. Perhaps you might be able to answer?"

"Eh? What question is it?", the girl asked curiously.

_Don't tell me_, Lelouch thought as the man locked stares with him.

The man tapped off the large pillar of ash that had accumulated on his cigarette on the railing before saying, "Condition here. Satisfied?" He blew off another puff of smoke before continuing, "Your brother says he is. In a sense. Is the sister of same opinion?"

"Yes! As long as I'm with my brother, everything is just fine!", the boy heard Nunnally reply without hesitation.

Lelouch was surprised by this declaration. So they were of the same opinion after all?_ I see, Nunnally...Like me, you are -_

Apparently the man was also thinking the same as the boy as he next said, "Answer like brother's. But this time, sincere. Nonetheless…" The man closed his eyes as the smoke drifted lazily from the remaining end of his stick. For a brief second, Lelouch saw the man's hair being lifted in the wind, exposing a contemplative face.

"Allow me another talk. Things in this world. Changeable."

"Changeable?", came Nunnally's puzzled question.

"Yes. Changeable. What may be true in this moment may not be so in the next. That is why there is no such thing as an enduring concept. A persisting existence. Even for just a little bit, it changes." The man coughed, after which he tossed the cigarette butt mightily into the drifting waves. Lelouch watched it disappear in an instant, the waves already competing to overwhelm the place where it had been.

"And that is why," the man concluded as he looked at the two once more, "I will wait. For the right 'answer'."

Nunnally could only nod in confusion. Lelouch, however, seemed to ponder this for a moment as he stared forlornly into the moonlit horizon.

* * *

"Expected result. Years of 'breaking' has come very far."

The man had already left the two in his own silent way, rubbing his injured hands as he went. He'd slapped himself mentally again for forgetting to don a jacket.

The man leaned for a moment on the wall opposite the door leading to the outside which he'd just left, concentrating so hard at the sign overhead as if willing it to fall. After a while, the man shrugged as he resumed his hunched frame and started to walk away.

For a moment, the man sees the two in his mind, mere youths who already hid fresh and old scars within themselves. Their tense, haggard look worries the man for now: the boy's dull eyes and the girl's rigid denial, but as he'd said so pompously back there, perhaps things might change?

"A possibility. Things do change."

The man slowed his bowed stride when a ringing sound started to echo in the empty corridor, said sound apparently coming from the man's comm-phone as he lifted it up to his ears and listened.

The man's expression did not change as he heard the frantic voice coming from the other side, nor did it shift as he quickly ran back to where he'd left the two. The loud, jarring alarm klaxons that struck him with its sound as he opened the door didn't even faze him as he ran over to the dazed siblings.

"We are under attack."

* * *

Daily Diary:

....there is a point that must be raised during the next meeting.  
It is a fact that I have discovered from analyzing the reports from the data received in the Action Reports.  
Consistently, the accuracy rating for the weapons Valdez placed on the Morgana has always been credited to the auto-aiming system onboard the Merlin module.  
Normally, it is not something to fret over for now, but I believe it will become vastly important for the girl in the future.  
There may come a time that the two will be separate, leaving the girl to pilot the Morgana by herself.  
She would then be hard-pressed if she were to fight long-ranged combatants, with shooting skills bordering on the mediocre.  
Although the Morgana was designed for close-ranged combat, it cannot possibly last long when faced with a determined ranged attacker.  
As such, I will recommend we start administering shooting aptitude tests to see how the girl fares, and begin lessons should it prove...

Dr. Rouche Aiyme


	11. SubPhase 11: Leviathan

Author's Gab: Changed my profile notes, by the way, if anyone's remotely interested...

* * *

The doors opened with a pneumatic sigh as the two subjects designated as Subject N. and Subject R. entered, clad in drab grey garb. The room was a circular room containing a single, large screen off to the side of the wall where it was currently the map of the world. It was the Lamperouges' operation room, the place where many a disgraceful mission had been briefed to them over the past months.

As the door closed behind them, Lelouch glanced discreetly at Nunnally, who had put on that experimental Mind's Eye portable device that allowed her to navigate the corridors of the facility with ease. It was an innovative upgrade to the old head devices, yet it seemed to be deliberately limited as only a few areas had the required cameras installed.

His sister seemed to have noticed his gaze as she turned slightly to "look" at him, and smiled minutely. Lelouch did not offer his own and instead looked away immediately.

Presently, a computerized voice issued from the large screen, making the siblings straighten in rigid attention - as they had been trained to do.

"Designation?"

Lelouch spoke up first. "Subject R. Code number 00000. All status green."

Next, Nunnally said her turn in a subdued tone, "Subject N....Code Number 00001. All status...all status green."

With an acknowledging beep the screen lit up, the map distorting into a panorama of images before reforming into a strange, bird-like symbol. The room dimmed slowly as the screen image flashed green.

"At 2200 hours, the scanners..."

* * *

"...picked up a strange signal, sir. We activated the partial cloaking defense, as mandated by protocol, but it seems that they know exactly what and where to search for." The tech's face on the commpad was nervous as he reported to the head of General Affairs.

"Distance?" the hunched man asked. He hareturned to his messy office, having already turned on a number of screens on the wall. One in particular showed an x-ray view of the turtle-shaped facility.

"About a mile and a half south, and holding, sir. So far, there has been no action taken by the Coastal Defense, nor has there been any word from the intruders themselves."

The man threw himself into his chair and propped up his feet on the desk, and looked up at the screens. They now showed images of the facility's exterior. His eyes flickered to the tactical map displaying the apparent distance before crisply saying, "Do not open communications. Will wait for Portland's orders. Until then, escalate status to yellow. Discreet. Do not alert heads from sleep."

"Yes, sir." The man's face disappeared from the datapad.

The man's hooded eyes contemplated the images thoughtfully, after which he abruptly stood to leave the office, taking the commpad with him as he did.

"Suspicion formed. If it is them, then..."

The briefing had ended, if indeed it was one at all. All that the two had heard were just the bare-bone facts that the facility that they were in was being threatened by an unknown attacker. There were no orders to sortie, no special operation for the two, only a dull silence as the screen's image returned to the world map.

Lelouch noticed his sister relax visibly, an action that he probably likewise did. For the moment, they both had likely thought, there was nothing for them to do.

But what was there to do? Lelouch wondered as he gazed at the world map on the screen. If it is indeed such a threat that they claim it to be, then what could the two of them do, as mere Devicers of a single experimental Knightmare? It wasn't as if they were able to pilot aquatic units...

The boy visibly started as he considered that possibility. _But there was no way...no indication..._ He turned his eyes  
from the screen again as he looked at Nunnally, who was "staring" at him silently.

"What is it, Nunnally?"

"Lelouch, just now, you were thinking if we would have to pilot an aquatic Knightmare, right?"

"Wha-well, not really. There is that distinct possibility, however, it is well within their power - but that's not the question...how could you tell, Nunnally?", the boy stuttered with amused resignation.

"Oh, Lelouch, for you to have to ask that question...", said Nunnally, showing him one of her rarer smiles.

* * *

The experimental "behemoth of the seas" functioned exactly like what they had been advertised to, which is to say, as a mere mobile laboratory. Its only real, possible way of defense during times when it would be theoretically threatened would be to engage its mediocre stealth systems and attempt a strategy of escape.

And it had really been just that at the beginning, but the overall Head's penchant for perfection had necessitated a few "makeovers" as the years in the project went. Per Portland's orders, the Head of General Affairs had been forced to latch several anti-air and anti-surface static defenses onto the facility's exterior, as well as provide ample crewman for the job of manning said defenses.

_Which was all well and good_, the man thought as he stood on top of one such defense holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes. The man scanned the horizon, the strong sea breeze whipping up his bluish bangs violently all the while.

He'd spotted the suspicious dots in the horizon with just his bare eyes, with the binoculars revealing further what they really were. Two warships, ID signal undoubtedly masked to avoid the attentions of nearby Area 12's Coastal Defense Unit. _Or perhaps...they did not need to hide said signal?_

"Dangerous thought."

The man brought up his commpad again as the worried face of his assistant appeared on it once more. The man was sorely tempted to light a cigarette to ward off the unfriendly cold that had wrapped around him.

"Sir! Mr. Portland doesn't seem to be responding! We've tried contacting his office for some time now, but - "

"Nothing we can do. Just leave message, we can handle it. But may need to wake crew. Unfortunate, but we must activate the Leviathan cord.", the man interjected.

The tech was apparently taken aback as he replied incredulously, "Are you sure about that sir? But won't they just follow us where we go?"

"Cannot track us at that deep of a sea-level. Main reason: we are too close to Area 12. Cannot risk exposure to the Coastal Defense if we attack. Safe and prudent way is best."

"I understand, sir. Initiating Leviathan protocol immediately." The tech was already logging off.

"Set course for nearby trench." the man stopped him. "Oh, and one other thing. Prepare one of the subs."

"Sir?" The tech did not seem to understand this as well.

"After submersion, I will head out to investigate." the man intoned as he turned off the commlink.

After some time, the facility seemed to come to life under. True to its moniker, its insides rumbled distantly ike some forgotten sea creature, causing the whole facility to shake. This would be a forceful wake-up call for the people asleep at this time, but it couldn't be helped. The facility was making haste to escape into the depths.

As he was very slowly being pulled down by the facility under him, the man cocked one final glance at the distant Area 12 seaside dotted here and there by mangrove and coconut trees, frowning slightly. After that, he descended through a nearby door, closing it shut after him with a resounding clang as the static defenses also took their turn retracting behind him.

* * *

**"Attention all members. Leviathan protocol is being established. Please secure for yourselves..."**

Dr. Rouche Aiyme turned in her bed, pulling her pillow over her head. Can't even get some decent sleep around here... She was oblivious to the shaking that was happening around her that had already displaced her newest goldfish from its aquarium.

**"...section eighteen and section twenty-five are to be evacuated of all members in five minutes. If you have any..."**

Dr. Rimes Duran sat up from sleep, fumbling around in the darkness for his experimental Mind's Eye helmet. After putting it on, he looked with confusion at the announcement streaming across the screen of the laptop near his bed. Leviathan protocol?

**"...safer to be inside your quarters during the descent..."**

Lelouch hugged Nunnally close to him as they lay on the cot, his sister wearing a puzzled look as the room around them shook. Unconsciously, she grasped his shoulders harder, causing him to hold her tighter in return.

**"...expected depth will drastically...."**

Inside his workshop, oblivious to his assitants panicking around him as they secured several important equipment, Dr. Roderick Valdez hugged a metal cylinder and slept.

* * *

The facility, like a gigantic sea-turtle returning into the sea, descended as slow as its bulk could allow. Gradually, the structure receded into the water, countless bubbles forming and foaming as it did. With a screeching sound, the last of its exterior disappeared into the crashing waves, leaving no indication whatsoever of the gigantic entity that had once existed there. The screeching sounds like a whale crying a sad song soon receded as well, until the only sounds to be heard were the sound of the waves crashing into each other under the vast Pacific Sky.

* * *

The Innocence Breaker, Charles Augustus Portland, grunted as the computer voice over the intercom ended its announcement. For almost two days the Breaker had spent endless hours sitting at his desk, combing the world wide web on his terminal. He had ignored all the messages sent to him by the staff, from the usual daily reports to the emergency announcement just now.

Yes, it was an emergency, as Portland had already absorbed the information, but he was fairly confident his second-in-command in terms of facility protection would be able to  
take care of it. The man had a penchant for independent action anyway, and he was not proven wrong when he heard the intercom announce the Leviathan protocol.

Yet what had caused this apparent disinterest the Breaker had acquired towards the administration of the secret Lamperouge Project? Surely such a man famous for his methodical methods would not sink into carelessness now, when the fruits of his labor had already ripened? When month after month, the special action reports would stream in, describing in voluminous detail the massacres the two subjects had executed under his command? Secretly now, all around the world, the military leaders were wondering at this curious setback in their outlying outposts: who could have caused such devastation in a short period of time, without even a chance for retaliation? Portland had gloated over this fact, that the weapons he had created were every much as efficient as he'd envisioned them to be, able to ambush a heavily guarded Britannian convoy passing through the mountains effortlessly, or wreak havoc on a European Union satellite camp. It had whetted his pride to see the intercepted reports sent to him, of confused survivors and irate generals making sense of the information to be had. Doubtless, next time, Portland would have to be more careful n the planning, as although he would be safely insulated in an emergency of failure, he did not want his weapons to fall freely into another's hands.

And therein lay the problem, the issue that Portland was now mulling over in his mind. So far he himself had been planning operations spread over the entirety of the world, targeting remote, outlying places belonging to the Britannian Empire, the European Union or the Chinese Federation. The unaffiliated countries were even more of a bonus, allowing the subjects to strike with impunity. Yet in spite of these successes, the man was not satisfied, for the attacks, after all were merely his own lust for breaking made manifest - both of the world and of the two subjects. In truth, he was supposed to accept directives from the projects' secret patrons, entities he had not heard from since the project's start.

His empty inbox spoke volumes of its patrons' disinterest in this project, a fact that Portland had noted some time ago. But he still clung to that hope of receiving that one solitary letter, explaining that his role was now over, that he could start fishing for a new project and leave the siblings in capable hands; or at least a message that meted proper orders for once. It was not to say that he had grown bored, no, he was merely impatient, for the Breaker was not known to tolerate inactivity.

Abruptly, the gears clicked into place, his eyes widening as he stared at the comm device on the wall. _I see...so that's maybe..._And with that, seemingly coming to a single, terrible conclusion in his mind, the Innocence Breaker chuckled to his heart's content.

_So then I'm...but if that's the case..._

After coming down from his laughter the man exited his web browser and typed in a new message, to be transmitted to the heads' terminals when they would wake the next day inside a facility deep under the blue Pacific Sea. The man had on a perpetual smile as his thick fingers tapped on the keyboard, eyes gleaming like a sated predator.

* * *

(Extracted from an anonymous web chatlog transcript)  
***User "Puddinlovr" has entered the chat.***  
[PuddINlovr]: hello...  
[PuddINlovr]: ds thing on?  
[PuddINlovr]: where r the usual folsk?  
[PuddINlovr]: folks^  
***User "WS4life" has entered the chat.***  
[PuddINlovr]: k, hello  
[PuddINlovr]: nice 2 meet u  
[PuddINlovr]: havent seen u here b4  
[PuddINlovr]: u new?  
[WS4life]: Yes.  
[PuddINlovr]: howd u kno about ds chatrum?  
[WS4life]: I was once part of the "crowd".  
[PuddINlovr]: from d institute?  
[PuddINlovr]: wow, who myt u b?  
[PuddINlovr]: o w8, maybe new graduate?  
[WS4life]: No, I graduated sometime during the development of the third-generation Knightmare frames.  
[PuddINlovr]: ffffffffff  
[PuddINlovr]: dang we batchm8s  
[PuddINlovr]: if so, mite h8 u  
[PuddINlovr]: h8 a few peepz from back then  
[WS4life]: Wait, you're telling me you're from that batch too? I also hate a few people from there.  
[PuddINlovr]: lololol mayb its me  
[WS4life]: Maybe.  
[WS4life]: There are some people I still have the urge to murder for blatantly copying my designs back then.  
[PuddINlovr]: ...  
[PuddINlovr]: so anyway  
[PuddINlovr]: u read the rules?  
[WS4life]: Yep. No insults, no flames, just talk. No delvininto issues about the country or the state of the world. Pure relaxing chat.  
[PuddINlovr]: k  
[PuddINlovr]: and no trolling 2  
[PuddINlovr]: we h8 dat here  
[PuddINlovr]: almost time 4 dem to come  
[PuddINlovr]: ill introduce u  
[WS4life]: No need, I can do it myself.  
[PuddINlovr]: u sure?  
[PuddINlovr]: i can introduce rly well  
[WS4life]: Not from what I'm reading, but thanks for the offer anyway. I like to do stuff on my own.  
[PuddINlovr]: oooo mr. independent  
[PuddINlovr]: oh wait  
[PuddINlovr]: mayb mssss??  
[WS4life]: I don't want to have to answer that right now.  
[PuddINlovr]: k, but its cool if ur a miss, we hav lots of misses come too  
[WS4life]: Is that so?  
***User "Ganymeluv" has entered the chat.***  
[PuddINlovr]: ya  
[PuddINlovr]: oh here's 1 in particular  
***User "wingsofcc" has entered the chat.***  
[Ganymeluv]: hello...  
[PuddINlovr]: hey  
[PuddINlovr]: got a new guy/gal  
[wingsofcc]: Hi everyone!!!! ^___^  
[Ganymeluv]: o really? is it one of the crowd?  
[wingsofcc]: Hi hi hi whoever u are...welcome!:)  
[WS4life]: Hello there.  
[PuddINlovr]: claims to be my crowd  
[Ganymeluv]: interesting  
[wingsofcc]: let's save proper introductions for later shalwe? :D  
[WS4life]: Yeah, that's fine with me.  
[PuddINlovr]: yeah  
[Ganymeluv]: so polite, new guy  
[Ganymeluv]: wait  
[PuddINlovr]: lol  
[Ganymeluv]: guy???  
[PuddINlovr]: its wat i was askin  
[wingsofcc]: =D  
***User "proflazer" has entered the chat.***  
[PuddINlovr]: well find out eventually  
[PuddINlovr]: lol  
[WS4life]: Maybe.  
***User "albinox241" has entered the chat.***  
***User "cat4fite" has entered the chat.***  
(end excerpt)


	12. SubPhase 12: Hook, Line and Sinker

Author's Gab: So I just discovered this spinoff manga featuring Nunnally receiving her own Geass and wreaking havoc with it and all that. Though I must say, they took the power of Geass to a whole new level with that, I mean, Zero taking on entire Knightmares by his own self?

* * *

"Lelouch, what did that man mean about change?" The siblings were currently sitting on their mutual bed, the room shrouded in darkness.

The two of them had been sitting in this darkness for some time, ever since the surprise announcement about the so-called Leviathan protocol. Lelouch had deduced aloud that it was somehow related to the threat that they had currently faced, and that the facility was submerging into the depths of the Pacific Ocean to escape.

After the final messages from the intercom, the two had spent the rest of the time in utter silence, huddling close to each other. In this bleak, cold room, they eagerly sought the other's warmth.

She had broken the long silence with that one question, and it was clear to her that her brother was busy composing an answer. Presently, she heard her brother reply in a deep, cool voice, "It means that nothing in the world remains the same, Nunnally. That we would be spending our time as prince and princess of Britannia in one moment, and be sent away in the next. That we would be spending memorable and happy times with our mother," here she felt him grasp her hand with both of his and she returned the feeling, "and lose her in the next."

Nunnally repressed the urge to cry at that memory, that piercing thing that haunted her at the base of her mind. In a wavering voice she interjected, "And our happy times with Suzaku-s-Suzaku? Was that because of change as well?"

"Yes, change is just that." came the melancholic reply.

"But then," a thought occurred to her, "what did the man mean by saying those things?"

She felt her head being gently patted by her brother's warm hand. "I don't know Nunnally. But it's best not to think about it too much." Relaxing slightly, she offered her brother a quick smile at the gesture.

After some more moments of silence, Lelouch asked her, "Nunnally, if you had the power to change something, anything, what would it be?"

She was taken aback at this question. Her brother knew that she didn't even understand much of what the man had cryptically said, yet now he asked her a question of the same ambiguity?

Nunnally seemed to ponder this question seriously. _If I could change something...it couldbe...but that's impossible for us. Maybe mother...? No, that's impossible too..._ Her brother seemed to have guessed this inner conflict when he said, "Don't mind the question, I...was just speaking hypothetically...yes, just a 'what if' scenario, Nunnally...."

She frowned at this deflection. _Was he treating her like a child even now? She who hadalready crossed the dread boundary a long time ago?_ The feeling of resentment quicklypassed, by which time her mind had already come upon a suitable answer.

She took the hand that was on her head and fondled it with her own, rubbing it gently. "There are many things I want to change - nii-sama," she whispered softly, "but right now there is one thing I don't want to change, and that is my time together with you."

* * *

Portland kneaded his temples in frustration as he and the other heads of the Lamperouge Project had a moment of silence after having just experienced a strenuous three-hour report marathon.

As usual, the Breaker had not exactly understood anything at all from the heads' reports: starting from Aiyme's concerns about Subject N.'s shooting capabilities ("Then start testing her!"), to Valdez's veiled enthusiasm about his latest subjects (also complaining about the sakuradite - there was an always an issue with the sakuradite), to Duran's endless proposals about improvements on his test project.(it was boring without a visual presentation) Only the head of General had a different, and altogether unique take - he was actually making public certain intel he had gathered.

"WHAT?! Valdez knew about the sixth-generation the entire time??"

"Interesting...though this - "laser" sword thing, you have to find out more about this..."

Those had been the others' reactions to the first item on the list - namely the refresher intel about the Britannian experimental Knightmare Frame projects that were running concurrently with their own. The difference in the intel submitted had raised the two's hackles, though Valdez's a bit less.

"It is not a problem with methods. Availability. Proximity. Need to find better sources. Suggestion to put on table: establish ourselves near the area where likely to find it?"

The man had looked over at Portland with hooded, gleaming eyes, a cunning look briefly passing through the face hidden behind long bluish bangs. The Breaker had frowned briefly, and had said, "That would be good, if you first found out where it is."

"Oh, but I do."

Portland had the familiar urge to reach over the table and choke the grinning buffoon. In order to rein it in, he inquired in a level manner, "If that is so, then why didn't you inform me about this sooner?"

The man shrugged nonchalantly before moving on to the next item on the dictation - blatantly ignoring Portland's dangerous gaze, the gaze that had frightened many poor children but apparently did not work on this enigma of a man.

Next came the reports on the state of the world: as always the result of their subjects' operations were paid special attention to, focusing on the more notable suspicions. It seemed like Britannia had been quicker on the uptake than the rest, already assigning heavier guards to the outlying Areas.

"Britannia is Britannia. Prideful as always."

The last item concerned itself with the recent development that had necessitated the use of the Leviathan protocol. For once, the man shifted to a serious note as he related the findings that he received from his own personal investigation.

"...Two late-era style cruisers. Outfitted with standard surface-to-air and surface-to- surface weaponry. Submersion was best choice. Make? It does not match any nation's known models. Independent organization then? No more chance to find evidence of any external involvement. Crew was sparse on ship. Perhaps it was a secret mission?"

Portland had then waved off the rest of the rest of the man's message with a frustrated look. The period of silence had started afterwards, and here they were still absorbed in it.

The Breaker was mulling something over his mind, coming to a decision he had apparently long made since he'd arrived at that connection last night. The rumblings of the facility around them seemed to beat in tune with the man as he stood up from his seat and started to pace around the assembly.

"Gentlemen," he rumbled deeply, "and lady," he nodded at Dr. Aiyme. "Today we stand at a crossroads in this project. I am sure you are confused as to what I mean by a crossroads, but I will get to that soon.

"We have done an excellent work thus far, bringing the very best of the best in terms of Knightmare Frame and Devicers into this world. We can safely say that each of the "parts" that lead us into this point has been successful - barring a few necessary failures at some point." Here he noticed Valdez's eyebrows quirk slightly.

"We have sown anarchy, and I see that it was good." At this line, Portland noticed a subtle shift in the hunched man's position.

"Yet now, when rumors of this new Knightmare has already been spread within the lower levels, when our advantage in revolutionary technology and skilled operators is jeopardized by the immutable fact of the human genius - we cannot stop the advent of change. As we have seen the intelligence reports, Britannia has its claws on newer technology, and we cannot fathom what other projects exist around this world, as clandestine as our own, each and every one a threat to this project's continued success." Portland stopped pacing and placed his enormous hands on the table.

"I, Charles Augustus Portland, am the Chief of the entirety of the Lamperouge Project, and I am at a crossroads as to where this project will turn to. I am no seer, no visionary, I am a mere manager and disciplinarian, eager for the same orders that you all follow. And thus I shall propose, in a manner similar to that which is used by the democratic countries, to put to a vote among this committee, as to where this Project will go in the foreseeable future." Portland harrumphed as he ended his short speech.

A short silence followed, broken surprisingly by Valdez. "Big, big talk from the Boss, but what, pray tell, can we scientists propose short of parking ourselves near somewhere rich in sakuradite to continue our research?"

"True, sakuradite would certainly help in our research Breaker, sir, and as scientists we can only be focused entirely on our own works, so anything that can help..." Duran shrugged in a laconic manner.

"I believe we have to stick with the essentials here," Aiyme interjected determinedly. "Our purpose is to have the best possible Knightmare Frames and Devicers isn't it? Then we have to find a way to ensure that they continue to be the best, despite whatever 'innovations' or 'improvements' others may discover. Best Knightmare Frames? The  
Morgana's core and many other stuff could really use some work. We have to up our research and development efforts, by somehow raking in more competent staff or, as the  
others have mentioned, having a ready supply of sakuradite on hand - to do away with our issue with the sakuradite. " She glared at Valdez briefly. "And as for the Devicers, then  
we at least have to be near a war-torn area for them to improve their skills, isn't that right? Then we find that area and let them have it."

"Although," Duran spoke up again. "We might need to be sure that the sakuradite will be supplied to us as usual." He "glanced" up at where he thought Portland would be. "I can  
assume that there has been no change as to that regard?"

"I can assure you there are none," came Portland's level reply.

"LET US NOT FORGET TO ADD!" Valdez raised his voice, startling Aiyme, "Those current Britannian R&D efforts, Portland. We have to stay up to date after all." He grinned  
slightly and turned to the man from General. "Assuming he divulges where exactly to find the location of these other secret projects."

The other man said nothing, hiding his expression with a calm and inscrutable face.

"So here we have then," Portland concluded. "Three things to take note of, for us to be near: a location of ample sakuradite supply, a feasible 'war torn' area, and the location of at least one of the secret projects to gather intelligence from." He stared hard at the man who was placing his hands behind his head and relaxing. "Well?"

Still relaxing, oblivious to the others' hard stares (except Duran's) the man lazily intoned, "Sakuradite. Many sources of supply. Easiest among the three to be acquired. However, there is a place. Good place. Rich in deposits." He raised his index finger. "And that is..."

"Area Eleven," Portland finished for him. He watched the other heads' interested looks.

The man raised his next finger in the air. "Second concern. War torn area. As seen by Lamperouges. Many, many, areas of conflict to be found. Pick a battlefront and we have it. But some here may not like being near a real battle. So we turn to small-time conflicts. Like in Area Twelve. Guerilla warfare I mean. Easy for the two to pick off their hideouts rather than entire military base. Areas are good to pick. Not much rebellion going on in the other two majors. Many recommendations, but there is a particular Area that is a major headache for the Britannians. Hotbed of rebellious fervor."

"And that is?", Portland sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration, willing the man to get to the point.

"Area Eleven."

"And then these projects: their exact locations which you didn't have the courtesy of sharing to the rest of us...", the Innocence Breaker growled, growing more irritated with  
the man's laid back demeanor.

The man raised the third finger, slightly opening his eyes as he did so. The amber pupils gleamed dramatically as the man smiled.

* * *

_"Nunnally, if you had the power to change something, anything, what would it be?"_

He had uttered that question without thinking, a thought born of a currently brooding mind. He was glad that his sister was not so eager to pursue the question further, and satisfied himself with her eager answer.

Lelouch, on the other hand, was thinking idle thoughts again as he rhythmically patted Nunnally's head while she seemingly slept in his lap. Such thoughts were never more than mere musings brought about by that man's words.

"Lelouch...", he was briefly startled by his sister's sudden words, "Why did Mother have to die?...She was so kind and loving to everyone...why did she have to-", Nunnally stopped, though Lelouch could see the grief that threatened to burst out from her troubled face.

"I don't know, Nunnally. I want to ask that same question too....and find out who was behind her de-," he stopped to collect himself, "We may never be able to find out. It may be too late to say this, Nunnally, but the world is a far crueler place than you might have thought." Yes, that was certainly true, Lelouch thought bitterly as he recalled the uncaring, emotionless face his father had worn during his last audience with him.

Seeing her sister's face still having a troubled look, he searched around for a suitable thing to talk about.

"Hey Nunnally...", he began, as he laid his hand on the other's forehead. "If a fairy came to you and granted you the ability to fulfill one wish, what would that be?"

"One wish...?" He saw her sister start to think. Then it seemed that she had found her answer when her face lit up and Nunnally said in a wistful tone, "I wish that the world would be a gentler place...a place where no mothers will have to die, where children," her voice broke for a second, "children can live happy and free."

Lelouch couldn't help it, he nodded as well. "Yes. That world is certainly one that I'd like to be in. With you, of course. Then we'd..." All the while as he and his sister exchanged imaginations about this gentle world, Lelouch would unceasingly think:_ If only, if only, if only..._

_

* * *

_

The conference room was silent, dimly lit by the green light of the projector. The other heads had long since departed to their stations, armed with the new orders that Portland had mandated.

The verdict had been decided towards the end of the meeting, after the enigmatic man's amused confirmation. They had much to discuss and plan afterwards, for Area Eleven was by no means an easy fruit to pluck. It was one of the Britannian Areas that had much value to its conquerors and Portland did not want to step on a dragon's tail too soon. Because it was also a novel extension of the project's aims, the Breaker could now also afford to be more liberal in his demands for it.

After the meeting was adjourned, Portland had been surprises at the hunched man who had remained sitting after everyone had already left. The man had then opened his veiled eyesto stared with amber slyness at him.

"Some intel here. Top-secret. Only reserved for you. Thought you might be interested."

Portland had then been sitting at his chair for the past two hours, devouring what was placed before him like a ravenous hound. After he had finished, the chief of the Lamperouge Project leaned back, creaking his chair as he breathed out a sigh of bewilderment, after minutes of tense concentration.

The information the man had brought was, in a sense, mind-blowing. One cannot guess what passed through that man's mind in those moments, when his eyes met the General head's own amber ones.

"And they're in Area Eleven, as you said?"

"Secret project. Like so many. Like ours. Appears to be pet project of one of the imperial heirs."

The man had been smoking all the while, the consumed stubs littering the table around him. He was still smoking one while perched lazily on the conference table, a conspiratory look on his face. Portland did not have the patience to guess what the man was thinking, withholding and then bringing this information to him. The hunched man's motives were as veiled as his ever-squinting eyes.

To that, the Innocence Breaker grimly chuckled, "To Area Eleven, then."

* * *

A hot soup was a rare meal for those who spent their life in this facility, burdened as they were with the cold, but nutritive rations that formed part of their daily meals. That was not to say that they could not afford to procure some of this for themselves, it was just that it was only reserved for those of the higher-ups.

And the head of General was apparently one of those who enjoyed this perk, seated as he was in his office enjoying one particularly hot and spicy soup. The man slurped with especial gusto, plowing through the soup quickly with a plastic spoon, at the same time keeping his eyes on the enormous screen against the wall.

On it was displayed the data that the man had given Portland earlier that day. For Portland, that had been enough to seal his interest in Area Eleven, but what the Innocence Breaker did not know and bother to find out was the extensiveness of the intelligence. The little page that served as bait for the fearsome head was but a small piece of information compared to what the head of General hid.

For now, the man decided that just one page would be enough.

"But bait was effective. No complaints. Hmm...Delivery should've been more dramatic."

The man sighed slightly as he twirled the spoon around, spraying drops of soup all around.

* * *

Daily Diary:

"...it reminded me of a previous conversation I had with Subject N., sometime during their operations in Southern America.  
I had been holding on to the girl's hand followinga botched Mind's Eye synchronization (the cause of which I outlined in explicit detail in a previous entry).  
At that moment, so hot was my fury that I had been conjuring the very image of hell on those responsible in my head.  
The next thing I knew, the girl was suddenly hugging me, telling me to 'forgive' them and that she would try harder next time.  
Such a strange phenomena, I wonder if Subject N. is..."

Dr. Rouche Aiyme


	13. SubPhase 13: Idle Tension

Author's Gab: Just a small lil update. This'll be the last update for a while, as I do have to focus on my thesis paper. Until then...

* * *

Like a primordial sea-creature, the facility that currently housed the Lamperouge Project swam tirelessly through the depths of the Pacific Ocean, heading north from when it had submerged. It plodded onwards, caring not for the real sea-creatures that were displaced by its passing nor of the man-made objects that had found their way to the depths. The thousands of sensor buoys that Britannia or the Chinese Federation had deployed would only register the facility as a whale - a particularly large one at that.

But there was one thing that would time and again jar the facility's progress, though not by a significant amount. From time to time the residents would feel a slight tremor as the whole thing shook from the impact of it colliding with a depth charge, deadly remnant of wars waged long ago. These would not be wholly damaging to the facility itself, as it was shielded with a covering of a particularly strong metal, but it formed scars and dents nonetheless.

Now, it seemed that the facility had swam into a literal field of those explosives. As always, the thing continued on without hesitation, though this resulted in a stream of tremors for the inhabitants within.

Said tremors had no effect, as usual on the towering head of the Lamperouge Project, Charles Augustus Portland as he sat in his office delivering the latest mission details to his pet subjects. The man spoke with his usual threatening tone, an act that came naturally in his line of specialty.

The current plan ran as thus: the two subjects were tasked with the responsibility of Area Eleven's infiltration, finding and reporting information that would interest Portland and the subject. What this information was, the man had limited to describing as other "certain clandestine Britannian projects" and others of the sort.

Aside from that, it was also the siblings' continued role as the Morgana Knightmare Frame's Devicers to ensure that the original goal of the project would be affirmed, that of sharpening their young fangs on warfare as much as possible. To that end, one agenda on their investigations would be singling out specific rebel groups that were hidden in Area Eleven.

"I have deemed it necessary for you to be released from your little homes within this facility, as it is costly and ultimately unnecessary for us to continue ferrying you to and from this place. As such, your first objective will be to seek a suitable safehouse for yourselves within Area Eleven..."

A thought occured to him as he barked orders and details into the speakerphone. "Do not assume that your release from the facility frees you from the project itself. As I have said long, long ago, you are both mine - body, mind and being. I will be there personally to enforce the discipline that will be required should you prove lax in this undertaking, and to impose punishment on your failures. Do not forget: I shall be watching you each and every step of your miserable lives..."

As usual, the two would be supported, and at the same time monitored by the resources available to the project and, as he'd mentioned, by Portland himself. In a way, this was a newer and more complicated test for the two in Portland's mind, and it was something to look forward to aside from his imminent goal here in Area Eleven.

Portland's thoughts briefly recalled that piece of information so readily divulged by that man from General, detailing research undergone towards a certain end. That such a thing intrigued Portland was unsurprising of the man. For it was a subject that so involved the aging Innocence Breaker, that drove him to seek out even in spite of its forbidden nature.

_The power of immortality._

* * *

"Area Eleven..."

As they returned to their quarters (escorted this time by armed guards), Lelouch mentally examined the details gleaned from their mission briefing. Foremost in the boy's thoughts was the bitter reminder of the truth of their current existence, so bound were they by the chains of this so-called Project that he could not even focus on anything more than his sister's safety. Even with this new mission, as with all other missions before them, he knew that the both of them could not willingly escape from this.

Another concern was the reason for this new special mission, to be sent to the very country that they had first been abducted from. He knew from the first mention of the term "Eleven" during the briefing that it referred to the now defunct nation of Japan, where he and Nunnally had spent that final bittersweet summer. Lelouch could not fathom the reason for it being their next mission area.

The final concern, the boy thought as he flicked his eyes towards his sister marching in step beside him, would be Nunnally's reaction to this. This new mission was vastly different from all their previous ones, and was unique in the sense that it was required of them to re-enter society to achieve. Lelouch was afraid for his sister's ability to cope with the outside world, as that had been deprived of them for the majority of their past years. Of course, the boy thought, this limitation also applied to him, although Nunnally's handicap would be the major stumbling block for everything.

As the door to their quarters closed behind them, Lelouch abruptly felt the room spin around him and collapsed at the very spot. Nunnally, blind and alarmed, immediately sought the source of the sound as she crawled towards his body.

"Lelouch...!" Nunnally, blind once more from the removal of the Mind's Eye, cradled her brother's head between her lap. She was alarmed at her brother's sudden collapse and had hurriedly taken action.

"I'm fine...Nunnally...let me rest for a while," came her brother's hoarse reply as she felt his palm brush her cheek. "You feel so warm, Nunnally."

"Lelouch...", she began again as she grasped her brother's hand. "Are you thinking too much again? You know all that thinking's just going to make you older right?"

She heard no reply from her brother as she continued, "About this mission...you don't have to think too much about it, Lelouch. Let us treat it like any other mission before it..."

"Nunnally," her brother now spoke up in a near-whisper, "What about you...? What do you think about our new mission?"

"Me? I - " She cut off. _There was no other answer, right? _No hesitation because her mind is already set._ Mother..._ As long as Lelouch, as long as nii-sama... "I'll always be fine as long as I'm with _nii-sama_!", she exclaimed loudly.

"_'Nii-sama'_?" Her brother laughed softly. "I guess that's right, we are going back to Japan. I'll have to be your _nii-sama_ all over again."

"Yes...whether in Japan or in any other place, _nii-sam_a..." she declared softly and strongly. "We will always be together. As long as we are..."

"Yeah..." she felt his thin fingers brush her cheek with a feathery touch. "That is one thing that will never change."

* * *

The hangar shook ominously when Dr. Rouche Aiyme arrived to do her daily rounds on the Morgana. The sounds of machinery being welded into place and of computer systems operating filled the space, and on the far end of that space stood the towering metallic masterpiece, secured in place by interlocking metal frames.

It had been the usual protocol for the people in her division to use the time in between missions to do maintenance on the Morgana. They would set to it with haste, always keeping in their minds the possibility of merciless disposal that would befall them should they fail to meet expectations. As such, within mere days after a mission, the massive Knightmare Frame would be sporting a brand-new look: all traces of the battle before swept clean off the exterior, weaponry freshly outfitted and reloaded to pre-operation levels.

Currently, the Morgana was stripped of its important armaments, barring the conical Merlin module on its shoulders. Aiyme had deemed the time that they spent submerged to be optimum to trying new methods of power core output.

So far, there had been no successful models and, as a particular assistant told the esteemed engineer as she approached, no brilliant ideas had been developed over the night either.

Aiyme made a sound of frustration as the theoretical model that was displayed on the nearby computer screen resulted once more in a failure. Many simulations and models had already been tested and not one proved feasible enough to help improve the Morgana's measly twenty-one minute performance time.

"Pump the latest live core full. We will test Radick's live model," she ordered her assistants. And if it fails, we'll just have to get more sakuradite and push on. The esteemed engineer was satisfied at least on that regard. There would be no more issues with the sakuradite for her, oh no. She had already seen to it when she had turned the tables on her eccentric rival and snuck his own supply out from under his nose.

"Not this time, Valdez." The esteemed engineer smirked as the hangar groaned again under the brunt of another collision.

* * *

The lights dimmed for a moment as the room shook from the impact of the collisions. Dr. Rimes Duran paused in his work, head cocked as he waited for the tremors to pass. When it had seemingly ceased, Duran set to work again, crafting something on the work-table that occupied his attention.

Sweat dripped off the man's face in droves, an indication of the concentration he was exerting to maintain the Mind's Eye. He had been given the go-signal by the Boss to start creating a new innovation for the system, it was up to Duran to figure out what it was.

_"As long as it will help the subjects in their current mission."_

So ordered, the blind scientist had worked tirelessly through the days thereafter, taking advantage of this allowance to explore new and innovative features for the Mind's Eye. The man was determined to take back what he had lost: true sight.

* * *

The blip of light that was the mobile facility moved steadily across the navigation screen, drawing closer and closer to the coasts of Area Eleven. The crew that was assigned to monitor the facility's course had orders from the head of General Affairs to maintain their current distance.

It was then that their door to their room slid open to let in the hunched man himself. Abruptly, the techs all stood from their seats to salute, but were dismissed with a lazy gesture.

They watched as the man regarded the screen with interest. His amber eyes absorbed all that the screens had to show about their status, and for a while after the man seemed to be deep in thought. The crew snapped to attention when the man spoke.

"Prepare to disengage the Leviathan cord. Start Surfacing Procedures within the next hour. Make for Point 13-C. Usual surfacing precautions."

With that, the man turned crisply to slouch back out of the door.

The familiar computer voice now resounded throughout the halls of the facility, informing the members of the Lamperouge Project that they would soon be surfacing. The structure itself had gradually slowed its advance, making a creaking sound as rear thrusters were retracted and water vented.

An hour later, after much groaning and clunking, the mechanical sea-creature slowly started to rise from its depth. Slowly but surely the faint tinge of sunlight dancing in the distant surface could be glimpsed by any who looked. As it ascended, the facility was shrouded in a maelstrom of air bubbles, entire clumps spiraling throughout its frame.

The faint rays of sunset bounced off its top as the facility broke the surface of the water in a violent burst of water and bubbles. Like a whale it moaned as the rest of its structure broke the surface, exposing its entirety to the open air once more. As the water around it started to settle from the sudden disruption, the facility transformed with much more noise into its usual floating facility form.

Inside, the computer voice was announcing the facility's successful resurfacing and redeployment some distance of miles off the southeastern coasts of Area Eleven.

Walking down a white-washed corridor, the hunched man crumpled a half-finished cigarette between his hands as he uttered, "So far. So good."

* * *

(excerpt from a school announcement)

Attention all students of Ashford Academy:

To celebrate the last year of Lady...and to also commemorate the election of the new  
student council president, Ms. Mi-....said farewell party will NOT be-....a heart-felt congratulations to our new  
graduates-...Hail Britannia-...


	14. SubPhase 14: Area Eleven

Author's Gab: BACK FROM THE DEAD! Here's the next sub-phase, for anyone who's interested. Took a bit longer since I had to tweak some of my other stories after finishing that dratted academical exercise. Anyway, I'll be rigorously updating for anyone who reads this from here on out, just stay tuned! P.S. Anyone know where I can place a multi-crossover story in this place? Specifically, it's something from anime/visual novels. If you have the patience and kindness to respond, please PM!

* * *

The screen lights up, displaying a person's haggard face..

"I assume from this late report and the lack of 'explosive' news from Area Twelve that you've failed in your simple task? Such incompetence."

The figure on the chair sniffs in contempt, already dismissing the voice's panicked apologies.

"Oh well...we can still afford to continue this charade as long as possible...'It' is still a long way from being completed anyway."

The screen fades to black, cutting off the voice's anguished screams. The figure steeples its fingers thoughtfully in the darkness.

* * *

Dr. Rouche Aiyme watched as the last of the submersible transports departed from the facility, each carrying personnel and needed supplies to their assigned destinations at the shores of Area Eleven. Once there, they would start executing their orders to support the subjects in their current mission.

As Portland and the man from General Affairs had left on their own submersibles hours ago, the esteemed engineer was now the overall administrator of the facility in their absence. In the line of command, she and Valdez shared a spot, but it seemed that Portland shared her views on the man's inability to lead.

Being the leader, she was forced to watch over the various departures from the facility for much of the day, logging in each vessel to leave into the private terminal as she sat with boredom in the hangar. She had watched the two subjects leave on the first transport, strangely unescorted. She did not know what Portland had ordered them to do, but it seemed that they wouldn't be needing to use the Morgana for a while, as it had been left where it was in its hangar. She had then felt another wave of protectiveness wash over her as she watched their vehicle slip into the water, a feeling she quickly swatted away.

Now that the last transport had left, Aiyme ordered the exit hangar to shut down as she rose to leave. As it was nearly sunset, she only had a little less than an hour to do her daily check on the Morgana. As she strided down the corridors, she was suprised at the feeling of emptiness that pervaded them. It seemed that there was less activity going on now that some of the personnel had left. It was a decidedly eerie atmosphere for the esteemed engineer, and she doubled her pace down the empty halls.

Inside the Morgana's hangar however, the technicians bustled about just as normal. The mechanical beeps which indicated another failed experiment brought an exasperated, yet relieved expression on her face as she regarded her baby once again.

* * *

Lelouch took a deep breath as he stood beside Nunnally's wheelchair on one of the many neon-lit streets of the Tokyo Settlement.

The final orders had been given, their initial equipment had been packed, and their cover story had been established long before they had entered that confined space. The trip from the facility was tense and silent between the two, but it remained uneventual until the jarring thump that signalled that they had arrived on the shores of Area Eleven.

Upon exiting, they had taken the chance to breathe the familiar air and note the expansive night sky as Lelouch carried Nunnally towards a nearby hill where some men from the facility had already gathered. There, he eased Nunnally into her wheelchair and received an envelope filled with papers that would help them about the Area. Then the men left, leaving Lelouch to push his sister's chair towards the brightly lit place that was Tokyo Settlement.

Gradually, as they exited the back-alleys and crossed into the boundary of the Settlement, they heard the sounds of the nightlife, of Britannians in all their social finery strolling, laughing and cavorting in singles, pairs or groups, constantly illuminated by the neon lights of various shops and establishments. Here and there could be heard laughter, jeers, joyful discussions - voices of all kinds talking with a united tone of contentment. They passed a group of boisterous gentlemen, from the right came the sounds of a peculiar beat, above them in a building came the tinkle of silverware. Everywhere they felt new sensations, feelings that were just as stifling as the facility's yet felt fundamentally different.

For here, unlike the facility, there were people. Here were people going about as they pleased in society. This was not a ruined city or a military outpost where they had only smelled the scent of fear, blood and diesel dominated; no, here were the smells of Britannian society, of humans living in peace and contentment. There were no walls hemming them in as they freely moved about, no threatening presence hanging above them like the sword that had terrorized Damocles.

And that sparked a hint of envy and resentment within the hearts of the siblings - they who were deprived of such things yet were now pushed into the midst of it all. That there were people who lived such lives, vastly different from their own.

* * *

Walking imperceptibly a few meters behind them was the enigmatic head of General Affairs. He kept his face angled towards the shops to the side of the walkway, but kept his eyes on the two as they sought their domiciles.

He looked around and spotted a few of the infiltrated personnel, already mingling in with the local Britannian population. They had their duties as watchdogs and would be reporting directly to him of all that the siblings would do in Area Eleven.

Pausing as if to admire a certain jewelry shop's display, the man watched their reflections on the glass as they stopped in front of a building. The two seemed to have no trouble establishing their cover stories, conversing politely with the lady at the entrance. He saw the lady turn a brief, sympathetic look at the girl and then shake her head as she pointed to somewhere further down the walkway. The boy bowed and they seemed to take their leave amicably with thankful faces. The expressions would abruptly change as soon as they left the building.

For the rest of the evening, the two were constantly tailed by the man as they sought a place to rest. He watched as they continued to put on a charade of courteousness as they were sought and were subsequently refused entry, being led further into the inner settlement. By now, the man ascertained, they would be exhausted from their fruitless search, and the man decided to start pulling some strings should they be denied entry the next time.

The last one's proprietor turned out to be a particularly rude-looking woman wearing quaint cleaning clothes, who did not even spare the girl a sympathetic glance. She seemed to have given the two's request with some deliberate thought, and just as the man was about to contact some personnel, he saw the woman nod and point her thumb back over her shoulder. The siblings bowed with gratitude and entered the building.

After counting to two-hundred, the man straightened his posture and proceeded to saunter like a drunk man to the building's entrance. He banged on the recently closed door, singing a rude song all the while and swaggered in place at the entrance as it opened to reveal the proprietor.

"What do you want?", demanded the rude-faced woman.

He gestured as if he was tipping an invisible hat. "Evenin' miss. Ah wonder if ya could spare this man down on his luck a li'l space fer th' night? Ah seem t'have lost mah drinkin' companions somewhere and ah don't think I have th'stomach to sleep in th's streets waitin' for th' godawful Knight-powliss t'pick me up. Mah father can pay ya back firs' thing in the mornin' li'l lady and I-"

His long speech was interrupted as he was thrown bodily by the woman back out into the street, a feat that belied the woman's body.

He landed roughly, and promptly started lobbing insults, "Why ah nevah...! In all mah years as a young 'un, ah've nevah seen such a violent, old hag! Yeah tha's right, leave this poor man to the cold, harsh night!" He brandished his fist as he yelled insults drunkenly.

"In this establishment, we accept no freeloaders, not even those who claim to have 'fathers' of repute. Now begone, or I will be calling the 'Knight-powliss' on your sorry behind!", the woman coldly said, slamming the door behind her.

"HAG! Ya'll be sorry tomorrah fer messin' with meee!!", he shouted at nothing in particular, leering at and scaring off the passersby on the street.

At present, the man dusted himself as he stood and swayed as he walked further down the walkway. About a few hundred feet from the building, he ducked into a nearby alley and resumed his normal posture. He ran the images that he had briefly seen of the building's inside in his mind and recalled no detail that seemed to indicate disrepute. The establishment seemed to be quaint and simple from what he could see. The woman herself doubled as a good watchdog. Tomorrow, more "legitimate" personnel would check in and establish themselves in the building to begin their surveillance.

"Old but reliable, just like the owner." The man muttered as he took a cigarette from his pocket. After lighting and breathing deeply from it, he turned his eyes towards the midnight sky and mumbled, "Now for my part in the play."

* * *

"First condition, cleared."

"Yes." With an acknowledging nod, Nunnally started to stand from her wheelchair. The servomotors embedded in her legs had a slight delay in starting as creaking, mechanical sounds filled the room. A faint hiss signified the success in re-establishing mobility as the girl stretched her lower limbs.

Lelouch took the time to familiarize himself in the room that they had been given. It was a simple room with one king-sized bed dominating its entirety. Doors to one side led to a small kitchen area and the small bathroom. The yellowing wallpaper he saw, was peeling in some parts, though the violet drapes flanking the one open window rendered a familiar sight to him. Overall, he judged, the room was just right for them.

As he led blind Nunnally towards the bed, he recalled the difficulty they had encountered all night in finding a safehouse. He had hoped that the personas that they adopted: a visiting Britannian escorting his invalid sister, would be sufficient to grant them easy access, but it seemed that most of the establishments considered face value to be of utmost importance. He had even endured watching Nunnally adopt her persona deeply as she fished for the people's sympathy (to no avail).

"Would you like to rest now, Nunnally?", he asked gently after setting her down.

"Yes...I'm a bit...how about you, _nii-sama_?" she replied as he walked away.

"It's my responsibility to acclimate ourselves to this place. I have to learn as much as I can from what they gave us." He shook the contents of the envelope on the solitary table.

"Alright, but don't work too much okay? I won't forgive you if you do."

"You don't have to worry yourself about it," he chuckled softly. He was surprised to see her stick her tongue out slightly and dive into the covers.

For a moment, he absentmindedly touched the pile of papers on the table as he stared at her lying form. He then glimpsed the neon landscape that they had just been in through the dusty window, and marvelled at how vibrant and...different it had all seemed to him. With a helpless sigh he turned his attention to the pile and picked up the first paper to be read.

Amethyst eyes narrowed ever so slightly when he read the Area's current viceroy, a name so familiar to the siblings. He dismissed the tidbit after a while, and continued to plow through the essential information about the nation that had once been sovereign Japan.

The things he read all pertained to the current socio-political climate in the Area, from the attitude of the colonizing Britannians towards the subjugated populace, the "Elevens", to the increased military presence to enforce public order and offset the volatile resistance still being offered by a few zealous natives.

_And these, no doubt, will be our next targets,_ he thought grimly as he perused the information regarding what could be dug up about the various Japanese resistance groups. From what he could guess, most of these weren't even able to field the powerful weapon that was the Knightmare Frame, making it even more of a one-sided battle should the hapless rebels become their next targets.

After a few more pages detailing the various important landmarks within the Tokyo Settlement itself, his eyes lit upon a familiar, despicable name.

**_Ashford._**

His eyes sparked a cold violet fury as he devoured the information on the paper with trembling hands. _No doubt_, he thought,_ the worms had been rewarded well for their betrayal_. _And here, as we languished in that place for five whole years, here they carried on their opulence in their so-called Academy!_ The Ashford name had been sullied upon the death of their mother, and it was generally accepted that they had fallen far indeed to be forced into exile in this Area. _Yet that did not seem to deter the cockroaches_, he seethed, as they had magically managed to hang on to society despite all odds - through the establishment of this school.

Lelouch opened the window, letting in the hot, bustling air and the noise of the Britannians in their revelry as he hurled the crumpled ball out. He leaned on the windowsill for a while, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The noise had apparently stirred Nunnally from her sleep as she rose from the bed.

"_Nii-sama_, you still aren't done? You didn't have to open - " She paused as she regarded her brother. "_Nii-sama_? What's wrong?"

"No, it's nothing. I just needed to let my mind digest all the information I just read...I'll be sleeping soon.", he mumbled.

A frown crossed her beautiful face as she said, "Lelouch, I can tell when you're hiding something...We don't hide secrets from each other right?" She raised her hand, palm up toward him. "Not that we actually can," she murmured, "as we are..."

Lelouch coolly regarded the proffered hand briefly before speaking, "Subject N." He saw the hand recoil slightly. "I apologize for disturbing your rest. Be that as it may, I have something to announce. Tomorrow, we shall be diverging from our plan slightly as I have acquired some information that I need to...clarify. Rest assured, I shall be resting soon, as it has been a long day for both of us," he concluded crisply, slamming the window shut.

He strode back to the table with the papers, steeling his heart to ignore Nunnally's hurt and puzzled countenance.

* * *

The man crashed to the ground with an audible crack, limbs flailing as he struggled to get himself back up. He stumbled back up with a helping hand from his companion, glaring indignantly at his attacker.

Portland leered down impatiently at the insect that had bumped into him. Having just acquainted himself with the Tokyo Settlement, he had decided to visit the nearest bar to gather some more information about the goings-on in the settlement. The dimly lit interior giving off a pleasant, after-hours ambience had impressed Portland upon his entry - said impression broken upon bumping into this trio after just a few steps.

They looked like typical Britannian youths, arrogant and secure in their families' wealth and reputation. One was particularly giving off an overpowering musk of some sort of cologne, noticeable even amongst the scents emitted by the other patrons.

"Brats. Watch where you're going."

The man whom he'd bumped into made a threatening face. "Huh? I think you should be the one saying that, fatty! Why don't you watch where YOU'RE going, though I can see it's hard to see through all that fat clogging up your eyes."

Portland fixed the trio with his trademark, cold "Breaker" glare. A chill seemed to pass through the youths as they stood stock-still, seemingly dumbstruck by the man's gaze. The man grunted dismissively and did not take his eyes off the trio as he walked past them.

When did take his eyes off them, the trio seemed to come to and with muttered curses, dashed for the exit.

The whole bar was not oblivious to this development, and as he started to lean on the bar, he saw the bartender looking at him apprehensively.

"What'll it be, sir?" squeaked the bartender.

"Bartley's," came the reply.

As the bartender prepared his drink, Portland watched the other nearby patrons sidle silently off from their stools to seek other tables, not before giving him an apprehensive look.

"You new around here, sir?" The bartender's voice queried over the clink of glasses.

"Yes. Just came in express plane. Wanted to experience something better than the drabness the homeland offered, yet so far it seems like I've come back to the damn place."

The bartender nervously giggled as he placed prepared drink on the bar before the towering man. Portland grunted his thanks before taking a swig from his glass.

The Breaker saw and recognized full well what the bartender's nervous gaze meant, and he shrugged mentally as he fixed the man with his curious gaze. "What's the matter?"

"It's quite obvious what has the entire bar riled up, sir. That minor altercation back there was a rare sight, something you could only see in the seediest bars here. Those're places where they..." The bartender brought his voice low. "...Allow Elevens in. So, that's why you're getting all the looks, sir. That kind of near-brawl would've only been seen in places like that."

"I apologize for my roughness," The Breaker rumbled into his glass. "I've just been having some rough times."

"Ah well, it happens to anyone, eh sir?", the bartender made a waving gesture.

"Indeed it does. The name's Charles." Seeing the split-second shift in the man's face as he saw the proffered hand, Portland chuckled. "The name's quite common back in the homeland, mind you."

The bartender laughed in turn as he reluctantly took the man's hand. "True, true. One can't expect His Royal Majesty to just walk in to a little bar out here in Area Eleven, can't they?" The Breaker nodded jovially, eyeing the other patrons, who now seemed to have relaxed after watching this exchange.

As he finished his glass, he signalled the bartender for more. As the man fiddled behind the bar, Portland said, "I think I'll be visiting this bar frequently during my stay here. Nice ambience."

"You have excellent judgement, sir."

"So then, now that we're settled in. What can you tell me about Area Eleven?", the corpulent man leaned in as he spoke. "'Cause I think I'll be spending an eternity here, and I don't wanna miss out on anything," he continued with twinkling eyes.

* * *

Nunnally dreamed of swirling clouds of the most vivid of colors, coating her, surrounding her in their intensity. Within the swirls she could glimpse images from a forgotten past, of recorded instances of happier times.

Voices, a great multitude seemed to scream from somewhere behind her, though when she turned to look, she saw only clouds.

Yes, here she could see with full clarity. Here she could distinguish the colors that were real, unfabricated.

Here, she was free.

She flew among the clouds, soaring freely through a phantasmagoria of images. She was curious as to how these clouds would taste, so she reached out to the haze, but the colors would seem to recede from her hand, only to return as she removed it.

Again, she heard the voices, and again she could not see the source. Behind, above, below, to the sides....Where was the bottom here?

At this thought she felt herself fall down a great height, her arms flailing as she sought to fly once more. She felt a slight relief as she saw the clouds following her descent in a trail of rainbow.

For a time, she continued to fall and gradually she sensed herself slowing down, giving the clouds time to reform around her.

Then she looked up, and glimpsed a sickly yellow sun through a hole in the clouds. Its sight did not blind her, nay it only disgusted her. At this, the sun was hidden once more from her sight by the clouds.

Suddenly she felt herself being grasped by something strong behind her. She struggled and craned her head up to see.

_drip_

NO!

A wide-open mouth.

_drip_

I'M...

The mouth bristled with great, golden teeth. She felt something wet drop on her hair.

_drip_

The voices seemed to grow louder in volume now, a scraping sound echoing from a multitude of throats.

NII-SAMA...

She thought she could hear the thing speak in a hushed, excited voice as she felt its hot breath come closer.

_drip_

"minemineminemineminemine-"

_drip_

NII-SAMA!!!!!

From vividity, Nunnally woke to darkness. She was breathing heavily, and she heard her pants echo across the room. She kicked away the covers and rose to a sitting position.

"._..Nii-sama?_" she asked tentatively.

There was no answer. She felt beside her and found nothing, not even the lingering warmth that was the evidence of someone having slept there. She tilted her head as she felt with her remaining sense for her brother, but it seemed that there was one foregone conclusion.

He seemed to have left early, not even bothering to wake her. If she had to guess, it was something that had to do with his queer attitude last night, when he'd said those hurtful words.

She dived back into the covers and curled herself up. "_Nii-sama_, where are you?" She shivered even in the warmth. "...come back quickly, I need you _nii-sama_..."

* * *

Fort Guilliman, Bonaparte City

Sometime, late January

If you're wondering why there's been such a huge gap in time between this and the last entry, I can tell you that it all boils down to what had apparently happened to you almost a year back.

Heh, .... I think they must've injected me with Frenzy or something.

... basing from the last entries, the base was ready for a change in posts, since the Britannians don't seem to be threatening the Mediterranean anymore from Gibraltar.

They told me that it was reported as an accident. Some sort of crazy story about a leak. But I know better. As I've been telling the debriefers here in Bonaparte, watching their sceptical ... I can swear, it was a monster. It must have been something experimental coming from the Britannian robot-lovers. I mean, who else in the world has the capability of .

Now they're shipping this Ace to another airbase. Particularly somewhere remote, I can assume, where my story won't spark rumors. They also gave me a warning. ... That monster, that thing was responsible! Yep, you heard it here first!

... Everyone from the base. From Jean the "world-class chef" to sweet and deadly Jacqueline. Everyone's gone, and I ...

.... told me to live on. "There is another day!", he said ..... Why was I the only one .....

I swear to whatever gods are out there, smiling capriciously down on us. That monster must be brought to justice. Even if all I have with me is a shitty assault rifle. That thing, with the claws and the .... so, so sorry ....

(The rest of the entry is blurred, the ink looks like it had been washed out.)


	15. SubPhase 15: The First Flag

Author's Gab: Tinny bitty update folks. (To any of you still reading that is.)

* * *

Ruben K. Ashford was old, getting well along in his years. The head of the Ashford Family, he had lead the family to prominence as the primary R&D company for designing and manufacturing the revolutionary Knightmare Frames for the Britannian Empire.

However, he would also bear the responsibility of taking care of the family when it fell from its place in the upper echelons, its nobility stripped and its name dirtied and dishonored. This fall had come with the untimely assassination of one of the Imperial consorts, Lady Marianne, she who had been the reason how the Ashfords could have risen in the first place.

So it was that on that difficult year he had undertaken the laborious act of securing for his family's needs in the wake of their exile from the homeland. As the war with the then nation of Japan broke out, he had been contacted by the slain consorts' children, they whom he knew had fallen out of favor in the Imperial court as well and had been sent to Japan as a political hostage. He had agreed to this clandestine purpose of hiding the Imperial heirs as requested by the elder one, Lelouch. He had done this for he knew that the family would need some sort of backup should trouble again befall the Ashfords upon their arrival and stay in the newly christened Area Eleven.

He had also agreed to the request because he had respected the Lady Marianne who had supported his family, whose home in the Aries Villa where she and her children lived he would occasionally visit on business or pleasure whenever he would bring his grand-daughter, Milly.

He was surprised, then, to find nothing upon the family's arrival on the ravaged land of Area Eleven. No sight of the former Imperial heirs greeted him, and he was forced to reluctantly send out a search party for a time. Upon turning up nothing as well, he was forced to concede, with bowed head, that they had been lost to the war, unfortunate casualties in this wartorn land. He had sent the news anonymously back to the homeland, and had also then informed his heart-broken and saddened grand-daughter.

Which was why it was with a shock that greatly taxed his aged mental faculties that he beheld the elder sibling, Lelouch, seemingly walk out of the shadows of death and into his office in Ashford Academy five years later. He had just settled himself into his desk, eager to finish some paperwork and nursing a slight hangover from the raucous party he had attended last night, when the door had quietly opened to reveal a dark-clad figure standing in crisp attention.

He had used the silent moments of dumbstruck surprise to note the tea slowly staining the papers on his desk, as his mind struggled to comprehend the sight in front of him. He watched as the boy walked on inside and bow. "Greetings, and well-met, Mr. Ashford."

Mentally wondering if it was an illusion brought about by hangover (or age) induced stress, he returned the greeting with ashen tongue, not even pausing to think of offering tea. He merely sat in silence as he returned the boy's gaze from across the desk.

This one standing before him was a far cry from the scrawny boy he had met back in the Aries Villa. For one, he seemed to be more well-built now, though he was a bit lean in the sides. His skin had also seemed to have lost its fair luster, replaced by a dull light tan. But the most striking point, he saw, was the face. It was lined with light marks and scars, as if the boy had underwent tough conditions during his mysterious five-year disappearance. It was also highlighted quite clearly with a brooding frown, the muscles wrinkled to produce such an effect. And then there were the eyes, huge violet orbs that had strangely lost their light, as if they had been sucked away.

Those eyes now regarded him, and the man strangely shivered in spite of himself. Those eyes unnerved him, and he subsequently averted his gaze.

"L-L-Lelouch, right?" he stammered reluctantly.

"Yes," came the cold reply.

"So it is you!" he exclaimed. "Where, where have you been all this time?" he breathed as he comprehended this revelation.

"Me?" asked the boy, walking over to a shelf to his side, where numerous ornaments were displayed. "I hope you mean: where have we, the Lamperouges, been all this time? You," the boy looked back over his head, "do remember my little sister Nunnally, don't you?"

"Well, yes, one can hardly - "

"No matter," the boy interrupted. "I'm sure it is."

Another uneasy silence. "So...back to my question, if you could tell me, Lelouch. Where have you - and Nunnally been all this time?" He saw the boy's back visibly straighten.

The boy didn't answer, seemingly intent on focusing his attention on some of the displays.

"When we...," he continued, "we received the message, I'd assumed...

"Well, at first when there was not sign of the two of you on the meeting zone, we...we sent out search parties. We'd assumed...that the two of you had somehow gotten yourselves lost, or...," he gulped, "..the worst case - you had been casualties."

"How long and far did you search?"

"Lelouch, we did have our circumstances back then-"

"Did you tell the people back home?"

"- err, of course we were the source of the news, though they didn't know it was from us specifically-"

"Thank you," cut in the boy.

Feeling a bit annoyed by the youth's rude behavior, he pressed, "Lelouch, normally shouldn't this reunion be somewhat more...joyous? After all, here you - and of course - Nunnally are after all this time, safe and sound...I'm sure many people, your brothers and sisters from the homeland, would be relieved about this...

"And Milly, you remember her? She'll be overjoyed! You should have seen how she was back then when she was told we couldn't find the two of you...endless weeks spent crying..."

All this time he had been speaking to the youth's back, for the latter did not even turn to look at him when he spoke. Suddenly, the school bell rang, (even though it was a weekend) and he saw the youth's head cock to one side.

The boy now turned to face him once again, "Mr. Ashford, a question if you will." He was a bit unnerved at the way those little violet voids bore into him. "How did your family end up rising from its supposed stupor to create this grand establishment? It seems to be well-known here in the Settlement, and one cannot think that it had been founded by an exiled noble house."

For once, Ruben Ashford drew himself up, his pride of his family taking over, and said, "When we were 'exiled', as you said Lelouch, we did not lose everything. We had the clothes on our backs, and the inheritance of previous generations of Ashfords. Although we have been banished to this Area, we still have our duty to the Empire, and this is how we have chosen to serve it."

He saw something imperceptible flicker across the youth's face for a moment, before the youth presently bowed lightly and said, "I see. Good day to you then, Mr. Ashford."

With that, the boy turned crisply towards the door. "Wait, Lelouch! You still have to answer my questions!" Ashford called out, perturbed at the youth's eccentric behavior.

The boy paused in the open doorway, and again the man was affixed with that unsettling gaze, a look that seemed to radiate a haunting sense of killing intent. "Mr. Ashford, We will be spending some time in the Settlement. If you do see us somewhere in this place, I would advise you not to call out, or you will remember what exactly your current place in society is."

"What are you talking about?"

The door slammed shut, leaving the puzzled and astonished head of the Ashford family alone to ponder on what he had heard.

* * *

_It was another warm day. Today, they would be visiting again._

_In her hand, she held a little creature. A gift from her uncle, it was a cute little thing, resting peacefully in the palm of her hand._

_After passing through hallways, trailing behind her grandfather, she found herself standing at the entrance to the gardens._

_She could already hear their laughter from somewhere within. Without waiting, she'd bounded into the garden, holding the hamster before her as she ran._

_At first, she saw Lady Marianne sitting on a stone bench, who smiled at her arrival and pointed to her right. Bowing and curtsying happily, she ran in that direction, already_

_calling out, "Lulu! Nana!"_

_A little girl clad in a gaudy pink sundress runs to her, eyes wide and alight with curiosity at what she held in her hands._

_"Milly, what's that?"_

_She saw the crouched boy next, sweating heavily and panting a little as usual, staring at the creature warily._

_"Nunnally, don't get too close. It might bite you!"_

_"Ehhh~ but it looks so cute..."_

_"That's right, Lulu. How can something this cute hurt someone?"_

_"But..."_

_"Ey~," she tosses the hamster towards the boy._

_"Waaahh!" The boy dashed to catch it, almost tripping in his effort. He caught the surprised hamster neatly in his palms and glowered wearily at her. "Hey...that was dangerous, Milly."_

_"Hey Milly, what do you call this thing?"_

_"My uncle called it a hamster," she said at the same time the boy blurted, "It's a hamster." Without hesitation, they giggled for some moments as she plucked the hamster_

_from the boy's grasp._

_"It's so cuuuute...What's her name?"_

_"Uh...Nunnally, maybe it's a boy?..."_

_"Too bad Lulu, Flomi's a girl~ my uncle said."_

_Both girls stuck out their tongues at a visibly exasperated boy. The boy made a rueful face, and peered at the creature. "I still think it's dangerous."_

_They all heard Lady Marianne calling for them, summoning them for some snacks. She thrust the hamster into Lulu's hands again._

_"For that, you are now to hold on to her tight. You need to see how cute she really is!"_

_"Huh? Why do I have to do that?"_

_"Ah, it's a Milly challenge right?"_

_"That's right, that's right. For the next two hours, as punishment, Lulu will have to discover Flomi's cuteness through close contact," she declared._

_"All right, all right, I understand...I acknowledge that she's...cute..." the boy muttered as he held the hamster up. "So will you please take her back?"_

_"No can do," she refused as she grabbed Nana's hand. "You still have a challenge to do!" she called over her shoulders as they ran to leave the boy behind._

_"Hey - wait a minute - wait you guys..." came the boy's pleading voice._

_"Oh my, Lelouch, what is that you are holding? It looks cute."_

_"Et tu, mother?" She watched the boy sigh deeply as he cradled the hamster to his chest. She then had an urge to play another prank, and - _

Abruptly, she awoke, seeing before her glazed eyes the familiar ceiling. With a quick yawn, she turned her head to look at the nearby windows that now streamed the warm pleasant sunshine through. As she rose to sit on the side of her bed, she realized that she was still dressed in the party clothes she had worn last night, when a grand party that was to celebrate the third years' graduation from Ashford Academy had been held.

It had been a fairly raucous event, with some highlights that included her particularly drunk grandfather dominating the dance floor together with the graduating student council president. She had laughed her heart out, by then starting to enjoy the evening that she thought would have been greatly boring.(for she thought parties she did not organize herself were such) Afterwards, Milly was then informally inducted by the president into her new position, a position that she had been secretly yearning for since the day she started.

Then she had spent the rest of the night dancing with some of the inebriated men, graduates all, continuously declining their consecutive proposals. When the party had ended, she continued to decline more invitations as she retired to her room with her maid in tow.

The memory of her walking to her room was apparently the last hazy one, she did not recall throwing herself upon her bed with her clothes still on. Perhaps Sayoko-san had been polite for her sake, and for that she was grateful for her non-interference.

Right on cue, her personal maid who was of Japanese origin entered the room as she was undressing, curtsying deeply.

"I apologize for yesterday, milady. I was reluctant to disturb your sleep, and-"

"That's fine, Sayoko-san," Milly interrupted gently.

"Then I shall attend to you now."

"No, no- no need for that. I'm almost done. But I could use something to wake me up though, Sayoko-san. Perhaps if you could-?"

"Right away, milady," her maid bowed again as she left the room to attend to her orders.

Milly sighed as she put on the last of her homewear. Her head was still buzzing a little bit from the hangover, a sure sign of the party's intensity. As she stood near the window in a temporary daze, a thought occured to her to visit her grandfather. She recalled his behavior last night, and wanted to tease him about it.(and she would also ask how that impossible event could have come to pass)

Walking along the corridors of the Ashford grounds, she mused on the rapidly receding details of the dream that she just had. Thinking about those two brought a slight pain to her heart, a wound that failed to close after five years.

Back when she'd first heard about their fates from her grandfather, she had stubbornedly denied it with childish determination. It would only be days later, with no sign of the two in sight, that she'd finally broken down. She recalled those days with a gnawing pang, and it did not help that she had that occasional dream now and then.

Her mind turned to better topics as it fought to stave off the melancholy. _Grandpa_, she now thought with a snicker, _how will you explain last night~?_ Again, she regretted not bringing a camera last night - yet who could have expected Ashford Academy's head to have acted that way?

**SLAM!**

As she turned the corner, she was surprised to see a dark-clad figure standing outside her grandfather's office. She paused as the figure started to walk in her direction. _Did he have business with grandpa, I wonder?_ She made to offer one of her friendly smiles, but it faltered when she saw the figure up close now.

Time seemed to slow down for Milly as her gradually widening eyes fought to process what she was currently seeing. As she watched him pass by, she recognized the face: that familiar scowl, the same raven-black hair, the cheeks that used to be clear but were now lined by marks, and the eyes, those eyes...

She saw him look briefly in her direction, and deep inside, Milly Ashford shivered. No sign of recognition dawned there, nothing but a cold fury that radiated from his face. And indeed, if he was who she thought he was, then it would be even more shocking to see this dread transformation. It was as if he had indeed died, and a demon had taken over her dear friend's body.

But she had to be sure. What if it was a look-alike? What if it was just the aftereffects of the alcohol, or the dream, that caused her to see her long-lost friend's face in another's? So she had to be sure. _Then I..._

"Lulu?" she tentativey called out to the man's retreating back.

The man stopped in his tracks, and Milly could see his back stiffening. Encouraged by this, she repeated, "Lulu? Is that you?"

She saw the man turn his head slowly to look at her. There was a brief moment of silence between them as each glanced at the other, before he said in a voice quite deeper than the one she remembered, "Miss Ashford. Do you have any business with-"

Something within Milly soared to a great height as she broke into a dash and tackled the boy, hugging him with all her might. "LULU!! LULU!! IS THAT REALLY YOU?!!"

Perhaps the boy was too surprised at her sudden action, or he had no way of knowing how to react to this that he spent a few moments choking within her teary embrace. It was only a few moments later that he attempted to free himself, shouting in a commanding voice, "Release me!"

He violently shook her off, an action that surprised her so much that she stood gaping at him as he composed himself.

Up close she could see how much the boy had changed physically. Gone was the fair-skinned, scrawny boy she'd remembered, none of the familiar features could be found in this well-toned young man. The same was true, as she'd noted before, of the youth's face, once quite fair and cute to look at, now marked here and there across its contours with little scars. Worse to note, she noted with disquiet, were the aberrant eyes: it was as if all the light and life had been squeezed out. She was completely taken aback at the way they had bored into her, almost as if they were seeing a potential foe.

Yet there was something quite endearing with the familiar way the boy was panting heavily as he red-facedly arranged his wrinkled clothes. It had been one of his characteristic reactions after undergoing one of her many demands back then. Because of that, she smiled despite the unsettling changes that had seemed to come over her friend.

The boy was done arranging himself and was thus standing erect, fixing his baleful gaze upon her. "Once again, did you have some business with me, Miss Ashford?" the boy cleared his throat.

Milly, who by now had reined in her emotions that threatened to push her to hug him again, was quietly considering her friend. There were many questions that she would have liked to ask, all buzzing around in her slightly hangovered mind, and she struggled to find the right one to ask first.

Seemingly taking her dumbstruck silence for an answer, the boy quickly turned to leave, thus prompting Milly, "Wait, Lulu, what's the matter with you? Two friends thought to have been forever separated meet again after a long time, and this is your reaction? Where's Nana-," she paused as she ran to grab his arm as he continued walking. "Lulu!", she cried reprimandingly.

"Miss Ashford," the boy muttered in a voice that was now slowly dripping with an unseen venom. "If you have no other business with me, then I-"

"Lulu, what's with all this 'business' stuff? Here's your childhood friend, worried sick over you-over the two of you, from the prospect of your having disappeared altogether and this is how you act? All these years, thinking that the world had been unfair to the both of you-" She was not surprised at the tears that had started to flow.

She saw the boy regard her hand on his arm quietly, before he carefully extracted it. "Lulu. We're friends remember? In the gardens, the Villa...It's been five whole years..Why do you have to act so..." she paused when she saw him he walk away again. She did not have the energy, as she was, to stop him again. Everything had happened so fast, so abruptly on this fateful morning, and now she was exhausted before the day had even begun.

She gazed after him imploringly, the tears silently streaming down her face. The girl was intensely hurt at this newfound coldness in him, something which she did not want to see in her friend. "Lulu..." she whispered in a pleading voice.

The boy's pace halted for a moment, a response which she took as positive. So believing, she started to slowly walk towards him, before she was again stopped by his imperious voice.

"Milly. It's good to see you safe.

She gasped, slightly relieved at this,

"But it is not an untruth to say that we have died. Nunnally and I...", the voice paused. "We are both already dead. So please," the boy concluded in a whisper.

_Forget about us._

Confused and dumbstruck, all Milly could do was watch with sorrowful eyes as her friend swiftly departed. Eventually, when he'd already disappeared, the flood of emotions that had threatened to burst out were now let loose, resulting in her rapid descent into unconsciousness.

* * *

Lelouch, after infiltrating back out of the Ashford Academy grounds, immediately broke into a frenzied dash, his black cloak whipping after him as he ran.

He had no idea how this day could have possibly come to the worst conclusion. At the very start, when he'd stepped out of their temporary quarters in order to make his way to the Academy, he was confident in what he was about to accomplish.

Exactly what that was varied as Lelouch's thoughts had drifted from a crisp interrogation to outright murder. When he'd neared the prestigious Academy that the Ashfords had built, he'd been filled with a concrete sense of purpose, and he felt that now, after almost five years of dwelling in the dark, he'd find his answers.

The head of the family, Ruben Ashford, was the same old man as he'd remembered. He had no patience for the man's blubberings, in fact he had been thinking all throughout their conversation, (if it was one) of ways to safely and discreetly knock out the traitorous man and drag him to another place for a more thorough interrogation.

The unsuspecting man had been saved by the bell, whose shrill gongs had knocked the boy out from his murderous stupor into the reality of the situation: he had unwittingly revealed his and Nunnally's existence! So after giving veiled threats to the man and already concocting a scheme to secretly abduct him later, he'd made his leave, to quickly avoid being seen by too many people from the Academy.

The approach had been a tactical mistake on his part, but the worst was to come during the exit on that very corridor when he saw Milly Ashford walk around the corridor into sight. For the first time in the day, his simmering anger had been calmed at the sight of an old friend, a familiar face that had briefly summoned into his mind a dull memory. Cursing himself yet again for this slip-up, he'd made to ignore her by hiding his face, yet he could not resist confirming if indeed it was Milly, now older like he was, and for that their eyes had met, and then things went haywire from then on. The day had come apart before it had even started.

Desperately holding off the faint urge to throw his arms around his old friend to plead for deliverance, he controlled himself and shook off every one of Milly's advances, leaving her with another veiled threat. From the corner of his eye, he saw her fall to the ground in a swoon, causing him to hasten his pace towards the exit.

Remembering her prone frame spurred the boy even further, causing him to grit his teeth in sheer frustration. He hurtled through other people on the sidewalk without nary a care, not bothering to apologize to those he knocked down. He continued to run like a man possessed, as if there was something behind him that was stretching out its hands to catch the boy.

By the time he'd reached the vicinity of their safehouse, he was an exhausted mess, panting heavily and sweating profusely from the heat of his clothes and the midday sun. _Yes...Nunnally, please..._ he thought in desperation to himself as he ascended the wooden steps towards their room.

* * *

Charles Augustus Portland enjoyed a lazy cigar as he stood to stare at the gates to Ashford Academy. To a passersby, it would seem as if the man were enjoying the ornate designs carved into the gates, yet the few who knew the Innocence Breaker recognized the distinct look which implied that the Breaker had found a new sport.

Yes, he had been treated to such a rare sight that very morning when he'd tailed the elder subject upon his departure during the early hours. The man was curious, for the boy's action was something that seemingly deviated from the plan. (Though in truth, there were no concrete orders for now, as Portland was waiting for more intel from the man from General.)

He was then subsequently surprised to see the boy's path lead straight to Ashford Academy, one of the places that the bartender had mentioned last night. Apparently, it was one of the Settlement's main landmarks, for it was the only major educational institution in the immediate area, serving hundreds of privileged Britannian youths that were currently living in the Area. He watched the boy enter through a clandestine route (the boy had been taught well!) and disappeared into the grounds.

Portland wondered what business the boy had with this place. As he could not enter for practical purposes, he was then forced to watch the gates, taking up a distant observer position.

When he saw the boy exit hurriedly, Portland smiled despite himself. He recognized the harried look the boy's face had, it was one he had seen frequently in escaped prison convicts. Just what exactly the boy had met, he did not know, but he was content in the knowledge that there really was something in the Academy that was connected to him, something which he was now desperate to avoid.

The question remained still: what was that in the Academy that concerned the boy? He knew he could not garner an answer so easily even in his position, for the new environment that they had been thrust in had too many unknown factors to consider an overt interrogation. Although he was assured, for now at least, of the subjects' servility, he would not risk losing five years of submission in this wide-open place.

And that meant that the question would have to remain unanswered for now. Perhaps the man from General might be able to give a good explanation, and it would be then that Portland, as head of the Project, would come to a decision.

The man grinned widely again, crushing the end of his cigar between his teeth. The boy had revealed another weakness, and it was too delicious for this Breaker to ignore. He wanted another thing to exploit, something to bind the subjects more to him.

For he would very much need their honed skills in his future projected plans.

* * *

She had spent arduous minutes lying in her bed, ignoring the calls for breakfast that came through the door. Aside from preserving her identity as a blind invalid, she was also stubbornly waiting for her brother to come back, from whatever business he apparently had.

She endured for a long time, her stomach already sounding the tell-tale signs of hunger, yet she persisted so as to inconvenience her brother when he'd come back. He'd been so rude in leaving without a word after all.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep from all the waiting, she heard familiar footsteps from outside the door. Rising from the bed, she turned her head towards the door and prepared to deliver a vicious reprimand.

"Welcome back, _nii-sama_-" she started to say icily, but she was stopped from launching her tirade when she felt Lelouch suddenly seize her in a tight embrace. The sudden action surprised her, and she patted her brother's back tentatively and quizzically as she returned the strong embrace.

She was surprised to hear her brother's anguished sobs. Realizing this, she promptly tightened her embrace, reciprocating his own. She whispered words of consolation, in an attempt to relieve whatever it was Lelouch was suffering from.

After a while, the shaking ceased, and they then spent the rest of their time huddling close to each other on the bed.

"Sorry..." she heard him mutter. "It's just..."

"Sshhh..." she chided. "No need to talk, or apologize. I'm here for you, Lelouch."

"Yes, I know it's just..." he paused. "Perhaps it's best that I told you the purpose of my trip. I went to Ashford Academy."

"Ashford? You mean-"

"Yes, it's them. From the files I'd read that they had built their own school in this Area, and, well-"

She did not need to hear her explanations. She had long since known about his brother's suspicions, had heard him talk of wanting to learn the answers if he could be given the chance. Now had apparently been the time, seeing as he had not been idle. So that had been the reason for his behavior last night, though that left one more question...

"And? Did you find what you were looking for? Was it worth-"

"I met Milly."

She gasped, genuinely surprised and stunned in her turn. That name evoked a familiar memory, the images of their times together struggling to surface from within the hazy murk of her mind.

Nunnally trembled inwardly, not trusting in her voice to be firm, fearing that her breaking down now would just bring the both of them crashing back into a teary-eyed frenzy.

So instead, she buried her face within his chest. It was some more moments later before she summoned the strength to inquire, "So how was Milly doing? Is she fine?"

"Yes, apparently."

"I see," she whispered. For that at least, she was grateful and thankful. "That's good to know..."

The Lamperouge siblings spent the rest of the day without doing anything else, only spending the hours huddled beneath the covers, enjoying each other's warmth, as if trying to ward off a cold draft that only they could feel.

* * *

Entry Log:

....AND STILL NO WORD ABOUT THE SAKURADITE!! (static sounds) WHERE IS MY SAKURADITE!!? That fool Portland just left without giving the requisite orders to that woman, and now she's purpose-(cough) purposedly depriving me of resources! Oh yes...(giggle) I know full well what that woman is scheming, it's all too obvious, did she think I would not know? And here I am, just when I am on the brink of my breakthrough!!! (various muttering) These designs....I knew that they seemed so familiar...it seems one of my former students has stolen my designs....(laugh) so obvious, even at the institute, many of them had already born witness to the beauty that was the Had-(cough) Hadron Laser Variant! Even that woman, yes she was a student too...like so many of the others...I wonder what that particular batch is doing now? Well one thing's for sure, I hope that plagiarist chokes on his food and dies a slow, painful death!!! I MEAN IT!!! (static sounds)

R. Valdez


	16. SubPhase 16: A Single,Orangestained Wing

Author's Gab: I'd initially wanted to post an April Fool's chapter (that's also very much relevant to the plot), but I spent too much time laughing from the jokes I saw throughout the intrawebs that I forgot about it altogether. .

* * *

"It appears we have new mission orders, Nun - Subject N."

The Lamperouges had been dwelling in their safe house as usual, waiting for the orders that had yet to come. Their first set of objectives had been cleared save of course for the last which amounted to: "Await packages detailing further objectives."

Lelouch woke up on that morning to find one such package delivered, a hefty box sitting innocuously outside the door. Mildly annoyed at this inconvenience - for it would not do to have the other tenants become suspicious of their new neighbors, the boy had then dragged the package into their room, its size being too much for the lean youth.

Once the room was safely locked, the package had been summarily opened, curiously closed by a series of padlocks that only opened upon the input of both their ID numbers. Inside, Lelouch had gasped at seeing at the very top a pile of small arms, complete with ammunition to boot. These he quickly stowed away somewhere in the room, deciding to worry about what to do with them later.

Further in were a some papers that contained new mission details and orders, vials of something that he did not want to guess, some more clothes for the both of them to wear, and then a portable two-way communication device. After another layer of plastic he saw exactly what had necessitated such a big box. It was a large machine, on which was attached a note: "For Subject N's personal use, here is the new prototype. Subject R. It is your duty to read up on the manual attached, and educate Subject N. on the device's use. Signed, R. Duran."

At the mention of that man's name, Nunnally had cocked her head thoughtfully, wondering what the scientist had meant by new prototype. If Lelouch had to guess, it might be another improvement made on that so-called Mind's Eye that Nunnally had to use, that revolutionary device that had allowed her to see the world with limited clarity once more.

After skimming through the rather thick manual, Lelouch then turned his attention to the mission orders, the ones that they would be forced to carry out. Indeed, Lelouch was amazed to find that despite the implied sense of being monitored, he was not being reprimanded in the least for his little foray into Ashford Academy. _But perhaps they -_

The boy's eyes widened at the first order, which said, "Read the manual that is currently attached," and the second one that also reinforced, "Don't read the subsequent orders without reading the manual first, because you won't understand them."

Looking mildly disbelieving, he had looked over at Nunnally, who was waiting patiently on the bed, then to the machine that had been sent, and sighed. More than his desire to have things done quickly was the thought of not inconveniencing his little sister any further. So thinking, he grabbed the manual and started reading.

Roughly an hour later, he had nearly gotten the gist of what the machine was intended to be. The machine, as he was now describing to Nunnally, was a miniatured operating machine that housed the Mind's Eye system. Aside from the machine's integration of the various systems, however, was a particular feature that left the both of them puzzled.

Apparently, Nunnally could now share in what Lelouch could be seeing through specialized glasses that had been made for him, each holding a powerful camera that would transmit data to the onboard machine and into Nunnally's device. The special glasses were described as "Miniature Factspheres" in the manual, and one in particular had been sent.

With a thick, metallic frame and orange-hued lens, the thing was stowed into a bag of miniature cameras which were also supposed to be attachable cameras intended for the Mind's Eye. Giving the glasses a test, they were both surprised to see it in action, with Nunnally being able to see wherever Lelouch turned his head.

And this feature had been the reason why the mission orders had demanded him to read the manual first, for the following orders were pertinent to such. In particular: "Subject R. will test the effectiveness of the new prototype Farseer lens in the Tokyo Settlement. It is also his responsibility to plant the included mini-cameras essential to the Mind's Eye in whatever tactical location he sees fit throughout the Settlement. The supply is currently limited, so Subject R. has to be careful in choosing proper locations. This will also test the effective range of the cameras..."

Clutching two of those little cameras between his fingers, he then promptly attached them to places in the room. He smiled faintly at Nunnally's reaction to seeing the room using the cameras set up.

The rest of the orders included the exhortation for Subject N. to start taking the prototype concentration drugs that would aid in Mind's Eye synchronization, (he was leery of the prospect of giving Nunnally unknown drugs) for Subject R. to start mapping out the Settlement, and to await further orders as usual.

After a thoughtful pause as he stared at the device that was on Nunnally's head, he stood and started to put on some of the new clothes that had been sent to them.

"Are you going to be carrying out the first objective, _nii_- S-S-Subject R.?"

He picked a particular black shirt that had the symbol of the human skull printed on the back, "Conditions have to be cleared as soon as possible after all..."

He picked up the devices that served as his end of the communication device and draped them over his head, hiding the wire that connected it to the reciever attached to his belt inside his shirt. Lastly, he put on the orange-colored glasses that was the new prototype, and was amused at how eagerly Nunnally had switched to his channel. Grabbing two handfuls of the miniature cameras and sticking them in his pocket, he made for the door.

"I'll be going then, Sub-", he paused. "Nunnally."

"Yes, have a safe trip, _nii-sama_."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, right? After all, you'll be seeing the same things as I do." He chuckled softly.

"You have a point, but still you have to promise to be careful, okay? I'll be very suspicious if you turn off the connection all of a sudden," she pouted.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before long, Nunnally," he said gently as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

"Pathfinder here. Just returned. Decelarate to Alert 1 monitoring."

With another beep, the exhausted head of General Affairs sighed and put away the comm device. He leaned back into the cushiony seat and eyed the menu that had been placed before him with dubiousness, the exotic foods listed there even more.

He was at a certain restaurant in the Settlement, having just concluded another one of his secretive incursions into the ghetto that surrounded it. For it was a known fact that the new Settlement that had been built over the majority of what was once the Japanese capital of Tokyo allowed only Britannians to live within its confines - barring of course, the natives who had ascended to Honorary Britannian status and the odd immigrant.

The rest of the subjugated "Elevens" were forced to live in the outside, in the ghettos and the surrounding places where the Britannians were not. His immediate duties had necessitated his clandestine expeditions into the heart of the ghettos, bypassing dozens of mini-communities of Elevens in the process of gathering information as was his goal. Now, he had recently just returned, and had chanced upon this restaurant on the way to his safe house.

As he sipped the proferred exotic coffee, his mind considered the information that he had recently gathered, deciding on which particular bit he would forward immediately to Portland, which he would again conceal until further notice, and which he would forward immediately, perhaps personally, to the siblings.

The information relating to the so-called "Code-R" project of course, fell in the foremost category, and the Innocence Breaker would have become suspicious if no new information about this particular project would be discovered by the man. As it was, the man honestly had little to go with, for the project was unfortunately stamped with the Imperial seal that undoubtedly implied its importance to at least one Britannian Imperial heir.

The second batch concerning the other project that he had stumbled upon also had its Imperial seal, though his inside source had been tight-lipped as to which heir it was. Lately, the man mused, his source from within this Britannian Knightmare R&D project had become increasingly paranoid, citing heightened security that greatly implied that the project was nearing some sort of breakthrough. Whatever it was, it meant that the two heads from his own project would have to simmer for a bit longer.

The third category was the fruit of his expeditions into the ghettos: the information on where particular rebel groups' headquarters were and what kind of fighting strength they would be in. The latter was largely superfluous, as the two had demonstrated time and again that not even an entire military base would be able to stop the Morgana once it had begun its rampage. But here, inside one of Britannia's most prized Areas, the necessity of hiding their activities was paramount, and was something that the man would consider on which rebel groups he would mark for the two. Small-time groups would be easily overlooked by the Britannians, but the mysterious loss of a particularly infamous and major group would spark off unwanted alerts. (The Britannians would have also been pleased of course.)

The man looked forward to a long, unhindered sleep for the next twenty-four hours, though it would be probably interrupted in a splendid fashion should the food that was now being placed in front of him decide to play fiddle on his bowels.

One slurp was all it took.

* * *

In one of the less reputable districts of the Tokyo Settlement, a certain orange-haired girl was walking along the meandering streets, inexplicably lost if the helpless expression on her face were any indication.

This part of the Settlement that she was in was close to the boundary that separated it from the outer ghettos, thus several establishments that catered to the Elevens' tastes could be found here. Many Honorary Britannians fresh from their day duties and those coming in for their night duties would congregate here at day's end, clogging the street and the shops where one looked.

Because of that fact, it was a rare - an extremely rare sight for a Britannian to make his or her way to this part of the Settlement. True, this place was still technically patrolled by the Knight-police, but places like these were a figurative death-trap for any innocuous-looking Britannian that had the unfortunate luck to enter.

Add the fact that fifteen-year old Shirley Fenette was a pretty and fresh-looking girl, and the odds of something untoward happening skyrocketed in this place.

"When I find them, I am so going to be giving them what for-", the girl muttered to herself, eyeing her surroundings warily like a rabbit that had found itself in a den of sleeping lions.

Shirley had been initially sent by her mother to pick up something that she had had made in a shop. Along the way, the girl had met her friends from the Academy. They promptly lengthened the girl's outing by inviting Shirley to join them.

Which would have been all well and good, had she been paying attention to where she was gradually going. Along a particularly busy street, Shirley had lost contact with her friends, and had made the mistake of rushing forward to search without getting her bearings. As such, before she realized it, she then found herself in this very area, teeming with the Honoraries that were either heading wearily home or rushing to their duties.

Without a cellphone, Shirley had no way of contacting her friends or family. She'd initially considered asking any Eleven passing through, but that would've definitely given herself off as a Britannian. A Britannian that had lost its way. In a sea of Elevens.

Truly, Shirley was in a big pinch.

Unbeknownst to the girl, some less-than benevolent glances were now being sent her way, though she did not seem to notice this scrutiny. The malicious eyes even now tracked her movements as their owners slowly converged in short order on the hapless girl.

"Going somewhere, miss?", Shirley stiffened at the voice, staring widely at the man who had addressed her. She saw more figures at the edge of her vision, sauntering closer to her, enclosing her like a net from the crowd.

Into her now desperate mind came scraps and bits of her childhood memories: in particular the warnings from her father to avoid talking to strangers, how to politely decline unknown offers, etc. were dredged from that murk. With instinct to guide her, she attempted to go around the man in front of her with haste, knowing (correctly) at some level that nothing good would come from these folks.

"Excuse me, but I have business..." she said in her best Eleven. The man grabbed her hand as she passed, dragging her roughly back to where she had been. A surprised sound issued from her mouth as she averted her eyes from the man.

"P-p-lease let me go..." She saw the group form a tighter knot around her, effectively sealing her escape.

"How rude, miss. And what, we haven't even introduced ourselves yet," leered the man in front of her.

"She's a Britannian after all," hollered one of them.

"A tasty looking one at that," agreed another. "Just look at that body..."

The men seemed to be ignorant to her pleadings as they forced her away from the street. Things were not looking good for the poor girl as she was dragged to the villains' hideout.

---"Hold, fiends!"

Out from the air dived an orange blur, delivering a swift drop-kick to the head of the man who was holding her. The man was knocked unconscious, knocking into his fellows whom were surprised at this development.

In quick succession, the mysterious figure knocked the other men out with strong, bone- cracking punches and whirlwind kicks. It was all over in seconds, and afterwards the man stood proudly in the midst of the bodies, hands on hips and sticking his chest out.

She stared with wonder at this orange-costumed man, broad-chested with bulging biceps and a cleft chin. As he stooped to help her up, she blushed to see him smile at her and say:

"Are you all right, my lady?"-----

"...right, my lady?" The men cackled.

Shirley was broken from her daydream by the pain of the man gripping her arm more tightly as he leered back at her. They were now in a secluded back-alley, silent save for the distant jumble and rumble of the twilight crowd from the street they'd just left. It was filled with the scent of rotting refuse and drying waste, and to the girl it was the single, most disgusting thing she'd ever smelled.

_Perfect_, the girl thought. _To have a daydream at a time like that, what was I thinking? Should've been thinking of ways to escape, instead of cooking up that ridiculous-_

"Hey, are you listening, lady?"

"She's probably out of it, like all of them are."

"Haha! That's so true!"

"Let's just get this over with, eh? I got places to go tonight."

"Hey hey, let's just take our time. If you want, you can finish early, so you can go."

They'd pushed her to the ground, forcing her to kneel on the rough-shodden floor. She heard the shuffle of clothes, and various jingling as one of the men kneeled at eye- level.

Frantic, she stared with confused, pleading eyes at the man. She could not even summon up her basic Elevens now, the words failing to reach her tongue in her fear.

The man in front of her laughed as he grabbed her shoulder roughly, ripping the sleeve.

_ohpleaseohpleasenononono, _she now thought desperately as she stared frightfully at the grinning faces above her._ Anyone, help, please help me even someone in orange, someone help me, I'm scared, I-_

"Wow, this one's got some nice titties."

Her mother's gift from two years ago already had its front unceremoniously ripped, exposing smooth, pale skin. In a daze, she heard the men whoop and watched the man's hand come close to her front, intent on stroking her-

"Oi, out of the way, mongrels."

Shirley heard a plonk and a grunt of pain as the faces that had been staring down at her now looked around in confusion at this new arrival. A few more sounds later, and the men spread out, allowing Shirley to see what was going on.

Through the legs of the man in front of her, she saw another one's, and watched as a leg rose to kick. After a dull crack, the man in front of her collapsed, and she finally saw who this stranger was. It was a lean, raven-haired youth, staring disdainfully at the men in front of him.

The most striking part, of course, were the strange glasses the man wore. They were orange-lensed and seemed to be too big for his face, obscuring some of his foregead and cheeks. The second were the over-large headphones on his head, tilted carelessly to the side as if he'd stopped listening to them for a moment. Then there was his body that, though lean and well-toned, couldn't possibly have been able to take down a number brawny men.

Yet take down he did, as Shirley watched the other men charge the youth in unison. The latter calmly took a step back, and she wondered if he was turning to run, but he seemed to have just picked up a plank from the garbage pile behind him. He now met the men's charge, knocking his weapon deep into the first's open belly.

Pirouetting, the stranger slammed the plank into the next one's face, earning a cry of pain from the victim as his eyes were assailed by splinters. The remainders who had seen this paused in their attack to watch the youth more warily as he broke the splintered plank in two, wielding them each in both hands.

She heard a sigh escape from hims as the stranger made his move, rushing at the nearest man and knocking him out with a quick flurry of strikes. He heard another sigh as he met the next one's charge, tripping him heavily into the ground. With only two left, it meant a few more successive strikes before all the men were knocked down, leaving the stranger to stand in the midst of it all, strangely looking very much annoyed in the aftermath.

She was about to rise and greet this stranger when she saw the man who had been tripped rise suddenly, delivering a fierce blow to the stranger's head. The action dazed the youth as his orange glasses clattered to the floor near her and his headphone dangled freely from his neck. The man's small success was short-lived, however, as the stranger quickly recovered and struck with his weapons.

"MONGREL!"

A bone-cracking sound later and the man was down on the floor again, head flowing from his head. With a sigh, the stranger discarded the weapons, and as he stooped to pick up his fallen glasses, his eyes met that of Shirley's.

For a brief moment as she stared at the handsome, scarred face (oh yes, he looked handsome) she felt a wave of revulsion wash over her at those weird-looking eyes that seemed to be sizing her up. The moment quickly passed, and the man rose to straighten himself up, looking very much like one of those Eleven delinquents he had just felled in that weird get-up of his.

_What's with that skull?_ she thought idly as the man swiftly exited the alley with no last look in her direction. For long moments she just sat there, puzzling over this strange encounter with the strangely-dressed stranger, not a thought of quickly escaping from a situation she had been narrowly saved from entering her mind.

She was jolted to reality, however, when two uniformed members of the Knight-police ran in, one shouting "He's not here!". Afterwards, as she was escorted to her home by the Knight-police and watched as her mother ran out hurriedly to hug her in tears, she thought to herself: _I've just been through the weirdest experience I've had yet, haven't I? A real life abduction, and an honest-to-goodness rescue. I don't know whether to be horrified or happy by this._

That night, Shirley Fenette dreamed of orange men in tight spandex, flying around under a gloomy, violet sun.

* * *

"I'm back, Subject R," the smooth, modulated voice of Nunnally came through his headphones. "The housekeeper was very polite. Did something happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing much," replied Lelouch as he rubbed the back of his head. "Just had a merry chase with some Knight-police types."

Indeed, they had been annoying, those Knight-police. Ever since one had accosted him as he was sauntering at a park, looking for a place to dump a camera, he had become leery of those arrogant uniformed people. He did not know why he drew all of their glares, and wondered why it was that two had threatened to even take him in. Those two he had lost somewhere in the outskirts of the Settlement, the place where he was just in.

"So how're the images coming along, Subject N.?" he asked.

"Satisfactory as of this moment, Subject R. It's a bit strange looking at all these places, it's like I'm doing..what was that again?...surveillance! Surveillance on the city.

_I think that's what they might want you to do Nunnally_, Lelouch thought.

"What's with this last place, Subject R.? I see Knight-police and some... are those bodies?!"

"Probably the Knight-police enforcing their 'glorious' and 'necessary' authority over the natives," he lied with a snort.

"That's horrible," came her voice through the phones. "I can't believe they would use their given powers like that."

"This is a Britannian colony after all, Subject N," sighed Lelouch as he neared his last destination. There was a sign before him, warning civilians not to pass, but he ignored that and clambered over. He advanced down the street, and saw that why there had been a warning.

Before him, the street terminated abruptly at a sheer end, and as he walked to the edge, Lelouch beheld before him ruined buildings, in sharp contrast to the ones behind him. Undoubtedly, he was looking into one of the ghettos, where he read that the natives were forced to live in, segregated from the Britannians in the Settlement.

For a moment, he beheld what had once been a district of the city where this Settlement had been built upon, where a proud nation's capital once functioned. Foremost in his emotions were faint pity and disgust. Pity for the 'Elevens' who had lost their home, disgust at the Britannians who had taken it from them.

Like a flash of lightning he remembered that solemn vow, illuminated by the light of a setting sun. A foolish memory of a purpose that should have been, that will never -he gritted his teeth- come to pass. The crumbling ruins in front of him seemed to serve as a testament to the boy - or was it a reflection of himself that he saw? Now discarding the half-forgotten memory into the shadows of his mind, he stuck the last of the mini-cameras into the warning sign as he left the area.

Behind him, lights within the ghetto flared up, faint and scattered in many places as far as his eye could have seen.

* * *

Leaning on a railing on a shopping mall in the Settlement, Portland lazily watched the orange sun sink slowly into the horizon, each centimetre of its descent shrouding the world more and more in darkness. As there was a cloudy overcast, there were no chances of the night being illuminated by the pale moon or the vibrant stars.

Portland enjoyed these types of sunsets a lot.

* * *

(Extracted from an anonymous web chatlog transcript)

***User "PuddINlovr" has entered the chat.***

[PuddINlovr]: hello...

[wingsofcc]: hi hi ^.^

[albinox241]: Wow, its rare to see the most enthusiastic members be late

[proflazer]: pHU(|1|\|9 L473!

[albinox241]: somethin happen?

[PuddINlovr]: work stuff like usual

[albinox241]: ah

[wingofcc]: omg u too? h5

[PuddINlovr]: so what were y'la talkin?

[albinox241]: nothin much, wondering wer u wer, stuff like that

[cat4fite]: and about that ridiculous britannian kiddy show

[PuddINlovr]: wat?

[wingsofcc]: .

[cat4fite]: with all its propaganda shit

[albinox241]: language

[Forklover]: hey language

[PuddINlovr]: wut

[cat4fite]: and all that damn preposteeerouusss thing about knightmares

[PuddINlovr]: o that, i kno that

[PuddINlovr]: on 2 thought i dont, not really watchin KIDDY shows at my age

[wingsofcc]: LOL

[albinox241]: lol

[um8sam]: Secret propganda aside, it's very well-animated, and has a decent plot

[cat4fite]: lol decent

[syorty]: DUDE, weve been over this

[PuddINlovr]: hey i dont c new girl/guy

[cat4fite]: lemme spell it for you

[wingsofcc]: she hasnt been on that often =[

[cat4fite]: plot is crap, any of palubra's could beat it

[albinox241]: that is true, from the logs, she's been on once or twice a month only

[cat4fite]: animation is crap with 90 percent being rehashed scenes

[PuddINlovr]: been almost a month now since her last

[cat4fite]: i swear i coulda seen the glasgow turn and be shredded by the main guy's guns for the nth time

[cat4fite]: thats

[cat4fite]: how

[cat4fite]: it

[cat4fite]: is

[proflazer]: (0/\/\B0 bR34|3R

[cat4fite]: ladies

[cat4fite]: and

[cat4fite]: ladies

[PuddINlovr]: so WAT were you talkin bout when i wasnt here

[PuddINlovr]: cause i sure as hell dnt wana think that talkin bout kid shows is all tht u can com up wd

[cat4fite]: we were talking bout the size of your behind, thats wat

[Forkover]: so anyway i got this new thing over here where i live

[albinox241]: cat, one last derogatory, and your out 4 a week

[cat4fite]: fine, ill shut up about how britannia is dominating the airwaves, AND the world

[Forkover]: clothy thing drapes over your back and when you lie down on it, you get this smooth feeling

[wingsofcc]: that's nice =)

[Forkover]: even when lying on something rough

[PuddINlovr]: sigh ive had enuff

[Forkover]: its been damn nice for sleepless nights on the lab

[PuddINlovr]: "Sometimes, I prance around the room with a towel around my chest, pretending that I'm married to the Emperor."

[albinox241]: ...

[wingsofcc]: o_o

[Forkover]: wat

[syorty]: ...

[brass]: ....

[fel3ti3var]: .....

[proflazer]: --- ||\|3\/\/ j00Z \/\/3r3 94'/ Phr0/\/\ 7|-|3 $74r7

[rollypolly]: ....................

[PuddINlovr]: wat? i just vented

[albinox241]: suuuuure you did

[syorty]: so wich of the consorts do u imagine urself as?

[Forkover]: dude, SHE's his own consort

[cat4fite]: Fork, you know tat was a pretty stupid sentence, ryt?

[wingsofcc]: anything you'd like to tell us pudd? -_-;

[PuddINlovr]: guys im just venting

[PuddINlovr]: srsly

[cat4fite]: pretty sure dats what we all do yep yep

[albinox241]: 'normal' guys dont vent like that

[PuddINlovr]: its lyk

[PuddINlovr]: a hard day at work

[Forkover]: my story was totally better

[PuddINlovr]: u get home

[PuddINlovr]: unwind

[brass]: ur dress?

[cat4fite]: when i get home, i switch on the news to see what else the brits r up 2

[PuddINlovr]: log in2 daily chat channel

[PuddINlovr]: u c how bad dscussion s goin

[albinox241]: we were discussing you too, does that count?

[wingsofcc]: =P

[PuddINlovr]: and then u say something lyk that

[PuddINlovr]: feels goooood man

[proflazer]: Ph33L5 94444'/

[PuddINlovr]: no srsly try it

[rollypolly]: no srsly i wont

[PuddINlovr]: u wont b disappointed

[albinox241]: we are all disappoint

[PuddINlovr]: just say "Sometimes, I prance around the room with a towel around my chest, pretending I'm married to the Emperor."

[Forkover]: dude no

[cat4fite]: u wont catch me doing that

[cat4fite]: if anything i wont be any tyrant's bitch

[PuddINlovr]: or just some other variant

[wingsofcc]: "Sometimes, I rub mayonnaise all over myself and roll around in the bed."

[cat4fite]: ROFL

[PuddINlovr]: LOL

[albinox241]: et tu?

[PuddINlovr]: see?

[Forkover]: damit

[rollypolly]: "Sometimes in a crowded room, I fart in the most silent of manners, watching with silent delight as others start looking at each other with hostility.'

[brass]: fffff

[albinox241]: "I delight in praising myself before the shower."

[Forkover]: what d heck was that

[cat4fite]: "I thought 'Revenge of the Titans' was pretty cool."

[Forkover]: dude

[brass]: "When no one's looking, I sometimes stick my pen down there to scratch stuff..."

[syorty]: "I have a bath towel I call Bob."

[Forkover]: srsly?

[PuddINlovr]: dude, try it

[PuddINlovr]: itll make u feel better

[Forkover]: like hell i will

[proflazer]: "1 b3(0/\/\3 31573|\|714L \/\/|-|1L3 1'/\/\ 1|\| 7|-|3 p07."

[Forkover]: arrrg

[wingsofcc]: :-#

***User "WS4life" has entered the chat.***

***User "Ganymeluv" has entered the chat.***

[Forkover]: "In the morning, I look at the fresh eggs with lust in my eyes."

[WS4life]: I now remember why I rarely come here.

[Ganymeluv]: TMI

***User "WS4life" has left the chat.***

[PuddINlovr]: LOLOL

[brass]: OH DAMN HE SAW IT

[Ganymeluv]: that is NOT what i expect to see after a shitty day

(end extract)


	17. SubPhase 17: Miscellaneous Flags

Author's BIG BIG note: Wow, this is awkward. To any of you still reading this little ficcy fic of mine, I have to apologize for the abrupt end to the updating. I have several reasons for doing so: one, there was this little site called tvtropes that really pulled me in with its little deconstructing pages. This phase lasted for almost two weeks, followed directly by reason #2: an addiction to some certain electronic games. While I did that, I then discovered the announcement of a new Code Geass anime in the works, and this threw off my groove for a while. It was from this wrinkle that I was finally able to end up in a resolution to continue as I had always planned: ignoring any potential canons that might arise from the anime. This is a fanfiction after all.

So much for that, here I am now slowly encoding and uploading the rest of the subphases over the next few days. You might notice that the title has changed, that was intended and is something I'd planned to do when this little prequel series would be about to end. So sit back, pop some corn, read and anticipate the start of the real main fic, which should be coming up in the next weeks or so. (The time gap there will have to be much longer between chapters, as they will already be proper Phases in their own right.)

And by the way, I hate you tvtropes. For stealing my innocence. Now I shall never look at entertainment the same way again.

* * *

Under a clouded moon, a dozen people bled to death on the ground of their very homeland.

The scattered survivors could not doubt now what the source of the disaster that had wiped out most of their number, as a prodigious figure shrouded in darkness rumbled ever closer to them in the distance.

The Spirit of Honor and the Imperial Swords were rebel groups, one of the many that were formed from like-minded Japanese in the aftermath of the conquest of their beloved homeland. Though the Britannian dogs had been able to destroy one group or another as the years passed, there would never be an end to their resistance as long as one defiant Japanese still stood.

The two groups had met in this place just on the outskirts of Old Tokyo to discuss a cooperative strike on a certain Britannian airbase close to their location. As each had sustained losses leading to reduced numbers, they'd thought to achieve better with an alliance of sorts.

The brains of their group had just been ushered into a communal tent to discuss their strategy when they an overwhelming explosion rocked the area. Rushing outside, they saw the giant impact crater around which their dying comrades lay. The remainder had only a few moments of taking up defensive positions when they too were blasted to death from another explosion.

Someone in their number shouted, pointing the feeble glare of their flashlights on the ominous shape closing in.

Now, the remnants of what had once been two groups gripped their small arms, pointing them at the behemoth that advanced. With shouted insults and warcries in their native tongue they opened fire from cover, hoping to avenge their comrades.

Their insides turned to ice when they saw that their attacks had no effect on the monster. With a quick flash, the enemy retaliated with a devastating barrage of fire that reduced their already minute number to a bare single..

This man, gripped in the throes of his nationalistic fervor, now rushed at the behemoth, his hands clutching a pack of live grenades in each hand. With these he'd hope to turn the tide on the monster, even if he'd sacrifice his life in the process.

He would not get that chance, as he was mercilessly cut down by another hail. The dropped grenades rolled around him, and ruined his bloodied body further as they detonated.

A hush settled on the brief battlefield, broken only by the rumbling sounds of the behemoth vanishing into the misty dark.

* * *

For the two siblings, that mission had been the latest of many late-night runs they were ordered to do for the past days. After Lelouch had successfully cleared the previous objectives concerning the new Mind's Eye, the next round of missions then put them back into the Morgana, the Knightmare which they had been trained to use.

There had been sleepless nights for Lelouch, as he was forced to conjure a battle-plan that allowed for the conditions that stated that they accomplish their objectives under utmost secrecy. Because of the now clandestine nature of their new search-and-destroy missions, the boy's "Pieces" were rendered useless, thus negating the Siege Perilous to nothing more than an advanced reconaissance module.

There were long, stressful days for the younger sister Nunnally, too, as the new objectives stated her need to test out the new system being slowly set up around the settlement. She was ordered to monitor the network of cameras through her Mind's Eye terminal, a task that would have fried her brains from the long hours spent concentrating were it not for the special drugs that she was now forced to imbibe. Nonetheless, the girl's day would still end in a slight migraine, one that was heightened if that night was a mission night.

This was how the siblings spent the days following Lelouch's excursion: establishing the efficiency of their training through these missions. Lelouch had already grown tired of the monotony - the rebel groups hardly put up a fight! This would reflect in his later plans, each would seem highly identical to the previous. It was then merely a matter of patience as Lelouch watched his sister expertly obliterate each group. Is this boredom I sense? the boy grimly thought. Have I grown bored, of the-

_killings?_

For Nunnally, each mission had now been reduced to nothing more than an extended simulation game as she guided the Morgana's bloody golden claws in their sinister purpose. Perhaps it was her sole purpose now, the girl thought, to-

_hurt people forever?_

Regardless, it would be fine. Everything was all fine with me, for -

_-she's with me._

_-nii-sama's there._

_

* * *

_

On a certain day or three after (time had been a fluid haze for the siblings), Lelouch was using the portable computer terminal and Nunnally was doing her daily round of monitoring the system.

As the cameras had also been installed all around the vicinity of their safehouse, Nunnally would periodically return her attention to the images here once in a while. As she was in the process of finishing the precautionary safehouse scan, she was surprised to see a man, staring intently up at the last camera as if he knew it was there.

She watched as the man put a finger to his mouth and wink, and was then surprised when the man literally disappeared into thin air.

"_Nii-sama_."

"What is it, Nunnally?" asked the bored boy, concerned at the tone of his sister's voice.

"Someone's coming."

Knowing that asking "Who?" would at the very least be mildly insulting to his sister, Lelouch visibly nodded and shifted his chair from in front of the terminal to face the door.

"He's getting close...he's on our floor..."

Lelouch could feel the man's presence now, standing right outside the door. The door had been locked, but the intruder seemed to find it no problem, as after some jingling and scraping, the doorknob twisted in an unobtrusive manner, revealing their visitor who slouched in the now open doorway.

The boy recognized it: of course it was a familiar sight, although it was a figure that he had not seen in a long time. It was, of course, the mysterious, slouching platitudinous man.

The man made it a point to tip his head at a place where a camera had been placed - an action which both unnerved and annoyed Lelouch. Walking on in, the man then turned his lazy gaze on the boy, who still sat guardedly in his chair.

"Long time no see."

Not giving a chance for the boy to answer, the man tossed a small brown envelope on the floor, after saying further, "New intel. New orders. Might need about a week to finalize...everything, I mean. Expect identification papers by..."

As Lelouch stooped to pick up the envelope, he saw the man busy himself with pacing around the room, looking about as if he was searching for something.

"Have a chess board around? No? Too bad. Sorely miss our matches. Oh well. Will be back sometime soon. Good day to you both." After firing off the words in his peculiar, rapid fashion, the man exited as abruptly as he'd come.

The siblings spent a few stunned seconds in stock silence, before Lelouch cleared his throat and opened the envelope that the man had brought.

"Mission orders are..."

Nunnally heard a high-pitched gasp, instantly grabbing her attention as she tuned to the right cameras in the network. What she then saw was her brother's contorted face, with jaw literally dropped and eyes widened to the brink - as if what he was seeing was something so completely and exceedingly unbelievable to her brother.

_"Nii-sama?..."_

"..."

Lelouch struggled to utter a proper response, but found that he couldn't even summon the strength to stir his chords, to utter a word of protest or anything else at all.

WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY THINKING?

* * *

The crisp morning sunlight streamed into the dining room where Milly Ashford sat, morosely eating her breakfast in solitude.

Usually, she would be accompanied during this early morning by her maid, whom she'd insisted on dining breakfast with - refusing the norms of having the hired help eat separately from their masters. Besides, Milly had reasoned, that only applied to nobles, and they certainly weren't in a position to be called that now. Milly would use the time to talk about many things with her maid, and she had been pleased to know that the maid was not too put-off by this.

Just recently however, she had taken to sending Sayoko away during breakfast, something that did not seem to bother the maid in the slightest. Where this strange new behavior had come from, the maid could not guess, but Milly herself knew about it on some level.

For ever since that fateful day when that dreadful apparition of her childhood friend had materialized, Milly would always see the boy in her thoughts. Since that day, she had taken every chance she got roaming the city, hoping for another sight of Lelouch in spite of the latter's warning. She'd expected to feel his scrutiny, to discover him watching her from some high window or street corner. Frustratingly, she met no eyes of amethyst, only the uniformly attracted glances of many men.

Always she would see his new face, cold and stern, haunt her nighttime dreams and her daytime thoughts - hovering at the edge of her mind. It was a good thing that the new school term had not yet started, for this preoccupation would have hindered her duties as the newly appointed student council president. The matter was already doing its fair share of clouding her everyday activities.

Her grandfather had ordered her not to spread word of this around: as far as she knew, only the two of them knew that the siblings that had long been thought lost were still up and about, and possibly involved in something dangerous, if what Lelouch's demeanor implied. Reporting this to the royal family, her grandfather had reasoned, would only make matters worse for the Ashfords, fallen nobility as they were.

As she put away her breakfast, Sayoko entered silently from the door, bearing a note from her grandfather. The note contained a half-hearted reminder about a scheduled meeting with another potential suitor as well as mentioning something about the new school term, with some encouraging words for her to "pull herself together".

_I'll try, grandpa,_ she thought as she started to get dressed. _I'll try really hard._

The meeting that day was a messy affair. The man was far from ugly, unlike some of her past potentials, but he was no Adonis either. The man had seemed heart-broken when she'd nonchalantly declined any of the former's offers, and the meeting had ended early with an apologetic bow and some sweaty handshaking.

Watching the man slink dejectively into the distance, Milly sighed and rubbed her temples tiredly. Deep down, she knew that some day she would have to respond concretely to a potential suitor. For on her shoulders was placed the burden of raising her family's fallen status back to its former glory by marrying a proper nobleman, thus the reasons for her numerous "meetings" in the days following her coming-of-age party. At some level, she knew that her grandfather had also anticipated this, knowing full well how occupied her mind was at this time. Perhaps, she surmised, that had been why there had been no proper briefing from him or any other Ashford - in order to give her space - but if that was so, then this day had effectively been a waste of time.

She looked around her, hearing the noise of hundreds of people congregating the meeting had arranged for them to meet near the city's entertainment center. Milly debated for a while if she should enter and continue her fruitless search, but...

_Not today_, she thought glumly.

She signalled for her ride to take her back to the Ashford Estate. The normally uneventful ride was livened up when a Knightmare Frame parade marched nearby - forcing her driver to take a longer, alternate route. It looked like the local military was flexing its colors after successfully putting down an uprising of some sort.

Her final glimpses of the tall, metallic humanoid weapons made her dull mood worsen, for some reason. Perhaps it was the large weapons they were holding.

Back home, she planned on informing her grandfather of the failed meeting immediately so she could have more time to immerse herself in the girls' communal bath at Ashford. The chance of any student being there at this time was low, but she hoped for one nonetheless, to free her mind for a bit.

"Ah, Milly dear. Welcome back. I have something..."

She saw her grandfather in his usual chair at his office, looking oddly strained. _Must've been a tough day, preparing for the new term_, she thought.

There would be new students, of course, most of them coming from the mainland, and with them came the nonstop, voluminous letters of recommendation from their families: letters that her grandfather was required to pore through for authenticity(and to a greater extent, security for their own family).

Wanting to not stress her grandfather further, she decided to limit the time and quickly said, "The meeting went just _as usual_, grandpa. I'll...I'll be turning in early, then." She turned to leave.

"Wait, dear."

She stopped, surprised at the oddly high pitch of voice her grandfather's had become. It carried with it the weight of something foreboding, and she turned back apprehensively.

He was holding a sheaf of papers in his hand. He held out one page for her to get, at the same time looking at her with incredulous eyes.

She then understood what had been disturbing her father, the moment she saw what the paper was.

* * *

_"I'm back."_

_"Welcome back."_

_Shirley heard the sound of the opening and closing of her door from where she was in the kitchen._

_It was dinnertime, and the food that she had painstakingly cooked for the past hour was ready on the table._

_"Oh? Is that steak I smell?"_

_Her husband appeared, looking tired in his power suit. Recent days had been hard for the superhero, due to the increasing number of crimes in the city, and it was a rare night when he would come home early like this._

_He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips as she brushed the raven bangs coyly._

_"I've cooked your favorite dishes..."_

_"What's for dessert?"_

_"I...", she paused, blushing to the roots of her orange hair. "I was hoping that..." She felt his fingers touch her lips._

_"I'd like to have dessert first then," he whispered in her ear. "My little orange plum..."_

_She gasped as she was carried off her feet away from the kitchen, to fulfill a hunger that her food alone could not sate..._

"Wow, she's really mumbling like an idiot."

"Can you make out what she's saying?"

"I think I heard 'my honey', 'take me'..."

"Eww, how gross can your imagination go?"

_Huh? _Images of hot passion dissolved to nothingness in her mind as she snapped back into lucidity. Shirley found herself back in the reality of her classroom as she'd seemed to have left it - some time ago.

Immediately, she saw her friends standing in front of her seat, looking curiously at her. One girl in particular, Sophie, was putting her palm on Shirley's forehead worriedly.

"What're you doing, Sophie," the orange-haired girl asked weakly.

"Checking if you have a fever...", the other girl replied in a mock anxious tone.

"I do NOT have a fever, if you should want to know," Shirley said in slight exasperation as she shook the hand off. "What made you say that?"

"Well, it was because you were going on a Sophie episode."

"A what? How rude!" Sophie huffed, turning to the others now.

"Sophie episode? I was...?", Shirley asked worriedly, feeling her head.

"What are you calling a Sophie episode~~~" Sophie asked with puffed out cheeks.

"Going on about something called honey~"

"And 'dearest'..."

Sophie recovered from her shock and said, "Yeah, we've been wondering about that, are you fantasizing about that guy again? Gosh, it gets tiring to hear you go on and on an imaginary boyfriend - "

"What would you know Sophie," Shirley countered, "about boyfriends? Last time I heard you were still fawning over the guy who's had a steady for almost a year now. And," she added with raised chin, "he's not imaginary, he's real."

"Oh, then where is he now?"

"I assume he's...off saving other people in...the settlement?" Shirley had a strange thought. What if he was that type of hero, saving other damstrels in distress. Did that mean he didn't have favorites, that he wasn't the type of person to choose only one, who had several preferences, did that mean she wasn't the only wife, there was a whole bunch of them... a harem? _Idiot, idiot, how could I be fooled_, but he was cool, and kind wasn't he? He would never do that, _she was the only -_

"Earth to Shirley: COME BACK HOME!"

She was brought back to reality again by a light chop to her head, and the orange-haired girl shook her head to clear out the distracting thoughts.

"She's been Sophie-ing a lot more these days, that girl."

"It's a sickness! A sickness!"

Her face flushed, Shirley was about to shout for her friends to stop making fun when the bell for the first class in the morning rang.

Truth be told, Shirley never, ever forgot about the stranger's face. She remembered every single detail of him - each scar, mark and the striking eyes. He was ever present, in her dreams at night and at day, with the latter things causing her to be ridiculed by her friends.

For surely, the man(she could not guess her age) WAS an enigma: from his outlandish clothes that only the filthiest of Elevens would wear, to his apparent prowess in hand-to-hand combat. i and the eyes.../i Everything about the stranger enthralled and absorbed Shirley, who knew full well that she would not be able to have another chance of meeting him again. To meet the superhero that had come once in a blue moon for her.

Her friends didn't believe her, because there was no proof! If only she could show them that proof, maybe a chance sighting, or some sort of Knight-police report, but it seemed that the superhero had remained as enigmatic to the public as he was to her.

_It's hopeless_, the girl thought to herself. The girl closed her eyes in tired resignation as the first instructor came in to start their classes for the day.

As a student of Ashford Academy, Shirley was expected, like all other young Britannian ladies enrolled here, to learn the very basics of what would be taught, and nothing else. The rest of the time, they were expected to dip their feet into the social pool in the hopes of fishing up potential future suitors. The more prestigious the suitor, the more pride it brought to their families, and so it was almost always an obligation to attend parties, join clubs and essentially stand out to attract interest.

Shirley was one of those few who slightly chafed at this invisible yet apparent rule in Britannian society: for she aspired to some greater height in the future within her mind. It was fortunate that her parents were just as understanding (to an extent).

And this is why a part of her thought that she shouldn't be wasting time following such an obscure entity, that it was useless to chase after fruitless endeavors...Giving herself a mental pick-me-up, Shirley resolutely opened the textbook in front of her.

When next she looked up, she received a sudden, stunning jolt in her spine when she saw HIM there.

It was...the stranger! There he was, as clear as the weather, the physical manifestation of her fantasy made true! There was the superhero, coolly regarding the rest of the class, dressed impeccably in the school uniform, luminescent eyes turning to look...at...

The girl would not notice what she did at that instant, but if she were to see it from a bystander's eyes, she would have seen a red-faced, flustered girl exclaim loudly "IT'S YOU!" for all the class to hear, and then collapse in a heap with an audible thump onto the ground.

_"Welcome back."_

It'd be a long time before Shirley could get out of this particular trance.

* * *

Rivalz Cardemonde was not a grade A student, that was true. He could not expect some Britannian agency to take notice of his skills and carry him off into their own number, assured of a steady future and the chance of serving the Fatherland with distinction.

Nor was he one of those popular Prince Charmings that dotted the school, reaping their share of popularity among the ladies. These would be future Dukes and Counts, nobility one and all, wielding a powerful social life at this early stage. That social life was something that he knew he would not be able to get into.

But one could not call him an idiot. He was not stupid enough to not recognize one (or both) of the above at first glance.

The day should have been uneventful and its end was not something he was particularly looking forward to.

But when Lelouch Lamperouge first came into the room, Rivalz felt then and there that the day had picked up. The boy then had an inkling that he was not the only one to become extremely interested at this new development, as he could feel the once downcast mood of the room perk up.

Minutes later, after Shirley was carried to the infirmary, Rivalz decided to keep a closer eye on this transfer student.

What else could he do to waste time sitting here in the classroom? The boy was not too keen on spending another boring day sketching(poorly) the face of the newly appointed student council president. And so, Rivalz Cardemonde started his own private mission for the day, in the hopes of figuring out the enigma first.

One thing for sure: the transfer student was highly intelligent. It became readily apparent when, even without a textbook on hand, he would recite something asked of him by the teacher with expert precision. There was a certain moment when Rivalz saw the teacher open his mouth slightly while listening to Lelouch's long utterance only to interrupt the boy hastily and with a somewhat nervous giggle.

"That's...university material, advanced...ahem-

"-thank you, sir Lamperouge. You may sit down."

He saw the boy wordlessly sit down and then resume staring outside the window.

_Well that was pretty much established_. The guy would fit in well in academics, and could be called one of those geniuses.

During break time, when the stoic atmosphere in the classroom would temporarily be broken, giving way to energetic banter, Rivalz saw the youth remain at his seat, still in the same position as before.

"No, you go talk to him..."

And strangely enough, the girls were now spending the time in small groups, whispering to each other while they ogled the transfer student, who looked as if he was oblivious to it all. Rivalz wondered at that as he looked on.

_Oh, I get it..._

The groups had now singled out their representatives, reluctant girls who started awkwardly walking towards the transferee. Seeming to take courage from seeing other people try the same thing as them, the girls then boldly walked to the boy.

And then, the boy was literally surrounded by a gaggle of curious students.

_When did he get so popular_, Rivalz thought bitterly. Looking around the room, he found the boys wearing the same expressions as him.

But the question now was, how would the new guy react?

* * *

The world had seemed to turn on its head for Subject R., better known as Lelouch Lamperouge outside the Project.

After receiving the mission proposal, he and Nunnally had then spent a few hours discussing this unnatural development. The issue that Lelouch focused on was that if he were to actually do this, then he would essentially be leaving his sister behind and alone in the safe house.

And that was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do.

He'd brought it up when that man had formally briefed them, demanding that the orders be changed or some other mission be given, but he was met with a sheer force of denial, together with the reminder of the man's own sword of Damocles that they both knew hung over Nunnally.

"But at least tell me why I have to do this! I have no use of a school, we- I was already forced to learn a lot of things!"

The man was just as adamant in his denial to share the details, and was firm in handing out the boy's tasks.

The boy seethed within as he listened to the man drone on and on, and it would have turned into a sort of fury had he not known what worse it would just do to Nunnally. And so he sat and listened for hours - sitting for a few more afterwards in silence.

"Cannot say. Hard to fathom intentions. But you must do it. Mission."

The enigmatic man had said that on one occasion afterward when he visited them again to brief him on his new identity.

"What sort of mission is this? This is far from the normal thing that you would have us do!"

"Right," the man had nodded, "but he deems it a mission. And thus, you must do it."

The boy took the hint when the man briefly glanced over at Nunnally who was sitting nearby.

And just as outrageous, he would be forced to go to Ashford Academy, a place where he swore to never to return to unless it was to finally enact his plan for revenge. Lelouch had decided, for Milly's (and Nunnally's) sake, to hold off on doing it. Along with the knowledge that he would be hurting his old friend with his actions, he knew that doing it without meticulous planning would jeopardize the Project, and by extension, Nunnally.

Now here he was, forced to go there, to act out the role of a spy (to what purpose, he did not know). Officially, he was "Lelouch Lamperouge", son of a minor nobility, sent to Area Eleven as part of a coming-of-age ritual. That was the gist of his identity, and the identity he'd presented on his letter to Reuben Ashford.

His second meeting with the man had been a tense and awkward affair, with Lelouch acting the part of the sullen but eager youth, which also forced the old man to play along. There was a slight satisfaction for Lelouch in seeing the other visibly perplexed; though the was quickly squashed as soon as he went out of the office, approved forms in tow.

For Milly was there, ambushing him with a hug that could've given bears a run for their money. As it was, Lelouch played the part here too, and was just as relieved to see her play along with a knowing wink.

"I'll be sure to give you a tour of the campus later on, Lulu," she whispered before turning to leave with a noticeable smile on her face, leaving a ruffled youth standing in erect attention.

The last and most primary concern then, for Lelouch, had been Nunnally. She had been obedient to her role in the mission, that is, to monitor the Mind's Eye network that had successfully infiltrated the Settlement, and had been very much enthusiastic in encouraging her brother to assume his role.

But on the night before his first day in the Academy, as they lay close together in the bed, Nunnally voiced her own concern.

"_Nii-sama_," he heard her whisper as he felt him grasp his hand tightly in the darkness.

"What is it, Nunnally?", he asked in the gentlest voice he could muster.

"Are you excited about tomorrow?"

"Not exactly..."

"Oh, _nii-sama_, you don't have to say that...At least you get the chance to be there, and to see Milly again, and meet many friends..."

"But I won't be able to guard you." That was one of his most persistent worries.

"And you worry too much. I don't like to say it, but please, just enjoy this mission. Become the person they expect you to be, and more...Please, _nii-sama_..."

He felt her hold tighten.

"At the very least, do it for me..."

Soon he could hear the hushed sound of her slumbering breath, even though the grip on his hand remained strong and tight. Lelouch turned his head to look out the nearby window, seeing the shrouded lights and hearing the muffled sounds of the people in the night.

The violet orbs burned in the darkness for quite some time after.

"Um..."

Lelouch could practically feel his ears twitch at the sound that had brought him out of this slight reverie, and with an exasperated sigh, he turned his gaze from the window to look at the source.

This would be the fifth time that he would be accosted by this bothersome class, with the previous times ending in a cold rejection from him and some shocked, puzzled (and sometimes angered) countenances. He did not know how to react to this attention, and that was why he reacted in the only way he knew how. That was how he found himself, at the middle of the day, mired in an uncomfortable atmosphere within the room. Yet like the start of the day, all attention was still maddeningly focused on him.

_Why couldn't they just study their lessons or something instead of insisting on idle activities?_

The next accoster was, surprisingly, male this time. He was giving him a look that was entirely different from before. It seemed to Lelouch that the boy was sizing him up for some reason.

Lelouch narrowed his eyes. If there was to be a fight now, it was better to strike proactively than be hit first. Then again, he had another thought that if he were to fight, it would draw more attention to himself, a fact that he did not currently want.

"What do you want?" he asked tentatively.

"Hey there, you said your name is Lelouch? My name is Rivalz. Rivalz Cardemonde," the other said with a short bow.

"I see," Lelouch said curtly as he returned his gaze to the window.

"If it would be fine with you," the boy interjected more loudly this time, "would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Lunch?" Lelouch turned his head quizzically.

"Yeah, it's that time of the day, you know...gotta stock up for the afternoon marathon!" answered the boy enthusiastically.

Lelouch could still feel the eyes of the entire class on this exchange, and it was making him more than uncomfortable.

_Damn it all..._

"Very well," he nodded, rising from his chair abruptly. "Lead the way, then."

"Oh, that's great! Well then..."

Lelouch followed the boy outside the room reluctantly, mentally shaking off the multitude of eyes trailing after him as he did so.

Outside in the hall, Lelouch tuned out the other one's voice from his hearing, choosing instead to focus on the lavish decorations that were scattered throughout.

Once again, Lelouch found it hard to believe that the Ashfords had indeed fallen that far; in the five years since his mother's death, the family that had fallen because they had sponsored the slain Empress was just as affluent as before, evidenced by this very institution, and the many profuse things adorning its many halls.

The question of that family's involvement was something he hoped to resolve later, especially if it was responsible for their current state.

Lelouch cocked his head to the side when he caught the other boy's eye. The boy, Rivalz, was it? was still talking animatedly, about something unrelated.

For he honestly had no idea what he was supposed to do in this situation. How would they be able to spend lunch? Would they be talking about something while eating?

"Oh it's you Shirley! How are you doing?"

Lelouch saw the girl who had mysteriously fainted before turn the corner in front of them. The girl was oddly flustered when their eyes met, her face going the same shade as her hair as she looked away.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine now...it's just anemia...w-what are you doing Rivalz?"

"Oh, I was just about to take my new buddy Lelouch here to lunch! Care to join us?"

Lelouch frowned. The boy knew at least this much; that one mustn't flippantly invite membes of the opposite sex like so. Perhaps it was a legacy of his old royal roots?

He watched the girl become even more animated as she stammered, "M-m-me? I-I couldn't possibly...b-but..." Their eyes met again but this time, as she hastily broke off the connection again, she nodded.

"OK! Well then, introductions should be underway, this is my-OUR classmate, Shirley Fenette. And you might've missed it, Shirley, but his name is..."

"Lelouch. Lamperouge," the raven-haired boy cut in with a short bow. "It is my pleasure."

"P-p-pleased to meet you..." The girl jerkily bowed in response.

They continued to walk down the corridor, presumably, for Lelouch, towards the food hall. Along the way, Rivalz engaged the new girl, Shirley in small talk, and Lelouch saw the girl gradually calm down her movements as they did.

These two were now Liabilities #3 and #4, which meant they would be the first ones to be eliminated should something go amiss to jeopardize his other identity._ More lives... _Lelouch gritted his teeth. Two more in danger because of him. Two more who had no idea what he was capable of, and what he and Nunnally were going through. Two more out of the millions in the whole world.

"Found you~~", came a voice near his right ear.

Abruptly, Lelouch pivoted, tensing his pre-conditioned body into a battle-ready position to face whatever threat was there behind him, and also firing up his brain into a prepared state. But what he saw was behind him quickly deflated that feeling.

Before them stood Milly Ashford, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"I was just about to pick you up from your classroom, but it looks like you've got nice new friends already!" She looked at the other two.

"P-p-president?"

"For real?"

They looked visibly stunned, and Rivalz was opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water.

"How do you do? It seems that you've already met my old friend, Lulu. I'm Milly Ashford, the-"

"Student Council President!" Rivalz exlaimed. The boy suddenly grabbed the front of Lelouch's shirt. "Lelouch, you're old friends with the president?", he demanded.

"L-l-Lulu?" Shirley asked with steadily reddening face, looking at Lelouch.

Milly giggled and curtsied. "Nice to meet you, as I said, my name is Milly Ashford, and yes, I am the new student council president."

Lelouch said nothing as he extricated himself from Rivalz's frenzied grip. He watched as the other two shifted their attention from him to Milly.

"So where were the three of you going?" Milly asked, looking from person to person.

"To lunch! I was just about to show Lu-Lelouch here to the hall for some lunch!" Rivalz replied enthusiastically.

"I see...well, I hope you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Sure!" "NO!"

Rivalz and Shirley exclaimed, respectively altogether as Lelouch was about to say no. Lelouch was surprised to hear Shirley share the same opinion. Milly had then narrowed her eyes for some reason.

"Th-that is to say...too much t-trouble..." Shirley muttered shamefacedly.

"Oh?", Milly inquired of the stuttering orange-head, a devilish smile appearing on her face. "Well, it's not too much trouble at all."

Lelouch felt that it was his time to speak out now, as he cleared his throat. "So are you coming with us or not? Let's not..waste time."

"Oh, of course! Come, come, come, you're all invited to eat in the Clubroom."

"Clubroom?"

"Are you sure, Ms. President?" Rivalz asked tentatively, though Lelouch could see that he was really excited about this.

"Yep, it's all the way back there. Come on, you're all invited, and no, that includes you, Lulu!"

"No thanks, we were just about to-"

Lelouch felt Milly grab her arm as he was just starting to walk away.

The boy looked down at the arm that had grabbed him, then up to meet Milly's hopeful gaze. As their eyes met for one brief moment, he could almost feel as if the old Milly was standing in front of him, inviting him once again to the garden.

Sighing inwardly, he nodded, and with this, Milly then led them triumphantly away.

"So, Lelouch, how did you get to know the President?", Rivalz whispered.

Lelouch said nothing and looked away, but apparently, Milly had overheard and proceeded to answer the two of them with a smile.

The youth was reassured that Milly was still playing along, regaling them with a tale of childhood friendship that was actually close to the truth - barring him being a Britannian prince and all. Curiously, Milly did not allude to the fact that Nunnally existed, though it seemed that that was fine for now.

"So how was Lulu's introduction? He didn't intimidate your class, did he? I remember him getting like that sometimes." Milly sighed melodramatically.

"Oh, nothing like that happened," Rivalz laughed. "Just..." the boy glanced at Shirley, whose face had reddened slightly, "Shirley...fainted..."

"You did?" Shirley shook her head with eyes shut. "Are you alright?"

Milly giggled, seemingly having an amused time as the other girl's face deepened further in the color spectrum. Through it all, Lelouch remained watchful, wary of whatever Milly was planning.

* * *

After some time, the group finally reached the Clubroom amidst cheerful banter (with the exception of Lelouch). Inside were some furnishings, most prominently a long, wooden table at the center, surrounded by seven chairs placed lopsidedly at its sides. The room had one occupant who was reading a book on the table.

It was a short, bespectacled girl with dark-green hair. She was about to say something as she looked up to the sound of the group's arrival, but fell short when she saw the others who had come in with Milly.

After a quick look of inquiry at Milly, the girl tried to stand, but was waved down by Milly.

"This is Nina Einstein, a friend. Nina, has my grandfather sent a note yet?"

"No, but Sayoko-san was just in earlier, looking for you."

"That's all right, I'll call her. Have you eaten lunch dear? If not, please stay, I'd appreciate if we could have a talk with our new friends."

"Friends?" asked the girl slowly as she tentatively looked back towards the other newcomers.

"Yep," grinned Milly. "This day shall be remembered as the day when this circle of friends would form the newly appointed student council," she declared with a grand gesture.

One might have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed, immediately broken by the door opening, and someone attempting to leave.

Milly was able to intercept Lelouch in three steps, grabbing the boy's arm for the second time in the day.

"Why?" growled Lelouch.

"Why what? Why me, or...?"

"Why," Lelouch looked around before whispering fiercely, "why are you doing this? Why these feeble attempts? I already told you before about...about us, didn't I?"

"You told me before that you didn't want me to be involved, but how can you say that when you're enrolled right here in this school...that's saying something about your words, isn't it, Lulu?", replied Milly calmly.

The others were still looking on confusedly at this scene, and after a few tense moments, Lelouch cleared his throat and asked loudly, "Why choose us?"

Milly smile widened, her face radiating triumph for all in the room to see.

* * *

"This academy has an important role in Britannia. Mainly, it serves as a jumping board of sorts for the young men and women enrolled here, to jumpstart their roles in our society..."

_I'm so glad, Lulu..._On the outside, Milly Ashford was proudly ecstatic at this small victory. Inside, she was doubly more so, for finally being able to take the first step on the way to hopefully unravel the mystery that her friend had become.

* * *

"...For some students, it can become tedious for them to keep studying all day long. That is why clubs were formed, to facilitate each student's potential interest in an extra-curricular activity..."

_Whoa, is this really happening?_ Rivalz knew that there was something special with the transfer student, and he was proven right when, in the space of an hour, he'd become acquaintances with the student council president, a person he'd been infatuated since he came into this school; AND he was being invited to join said council. To be together everyday, seeing this frame of perfect beauty in his every waking hour...Rivalz did not listen to the small voice in his head that disliked work and knew what joining the council would mean - for most of him knew that this was a one chance in a lifetime event, and turning it down would make him regret it for the rest of his life.

* * *

"...In turn, to facilitate these clubs, the student council was formed. Created by the students and for the students, it will be our sworn duty to look after..."

_Is this a dream? _After everything that had happened today, Shirley could not distinguish between fantasy and reality anymore. On this day, she was "reunited" with her savior. On this day, through Rivalz, she was able to meet her savior, and through the latter, also meet the student council president, who was the grand-daughter of the school's principal. In the blink of an eye, she was able to experience all of the above, and now, she of all people was being invited to join the student council! Being in the student council was a big deal, and she didn't know how her parents and her friends would react. But if it would allow her to get to know him better, then...

* * *

"...normally, the student council president (that's me) would pick from a list of top students; but since I'm in charge, we can do things a little differently..."

Nina Einstein was rightfully perplexed at this new development. Although she'd agreed when Milly had asked her to join, she was under the impression that the president would then pick out of a list that the principal would send. The girl could only pray that the blonde knew what she was doing, it was her responsibility as president after all. She also hoped that these candidates were at least competent enough - from the way they reacted, they didn't have time to prepare too.

* * *

"...now that the silly speech is over, let's get down to business! And the first agenda on the table, is of course, lunch!"

Milly was positively beaming at the end of her speech. All the others save Lelouch gave reluctant claps, pleasing the blonde, who bowed vigourously.

"So are we all set then, do you accept?" Milly asked with a flourish.

Rivalz was the first to answer enthusiastically with a big "OF COURSE!", Shirley nodded quite determinedly as if she'd made her mind about something, and the the other girl, Nina, was nodding albeit reticently. Milly nodded with satisfaction at each affirmative, and then looked with anticipation at Lelouch.

_Milly Ashford, what are you planning?_ A dozen like questions flitted through Lelouch's mind, and there were a dozen more answers, that made little sense. How could he afford to join in all this tomfoolery, when this was all just an objective to clear? If only she knew...but then Lelouch didn't seem to like that thought of his old friend knowing about him and Nunnally.

As he looked with rigid coldness into her own warm eyes, a vivid image of the young Milly flashed briefly, superimposing this one. This was the old Milly, who dragged them all around to search for a lost hamster, who always had a challenge for him everytime she visited, ever cheerful, headstrong and demanding...

It was all ridiculous. To the one in a million person who was in the same position as him, it was a very, very absurd notion, to be pulled in like this like everything was normal.

But shouldn't things like this BE normal? Was this not how it was supposed to be, had it not all fallen apart on that fateful afternoon on the staircase of the Aries Palace?

Yes, it was absurd, and for the first time in his life, Lelouch laughed.

It was a mere outburst of air, definable as a snort, but it conveyed to all in the room the message.

"I suppose it can't be helped," muttered Lelouch in an ambiguous tone. The others read it as amusement - the boy did not know himself.

Milly Ashford smiled softly, and after drawing herself up, announced loudly and joyfully for all in the world to hear, "Well then, with this, the Student Council for this year is formally appointed! Don't you all let me down," she added in a wink to everyone.

"First order of business, as I said, is lunch."

* * *

Naoto,

It seems that the rumors were true. I heard down at the factory that the Spirit of Honor and the Imperial Swords have all been wiped out. Obliterated. Naoto, this is getting serious, the Britannians are using black ops to wipe us out, one by one. Hinata from the Blood of the Samurai thinks it's a mole from one of the groups. If that's true, then we need to flush it out as soon as possible. Somebody proposed a meeting of all the groups, but I know some of them won't come on principle. You should really come out soon, since most of them seem to listen more to you. When's our group's next meeting by the way? Tamaki's been getting a bit antsy, cooped up here doing menial jobs. Strange, but I'm actually agreeing with him that we need to do something. Something to give a message to those Britannians.

Nagata

P.S. Tamaki sends his regards to your little sister. You better watch out for Kallen, Naoto, or he'll kidnap her one day. Just joking. But I don't think Tamaki is...


	18. SubPhase 18: Bloodied Flags

Author's Note: Greetings there, bad timing on my part for acquiring a particular hemorrhagic fever that took weeks to convalesce out of, in the meantime I continued writing up for my other stories (which I see my girlfriend has already made the impetus of posting, thank God). Any of you still following this will be pleased to know that Chapter 1 of TLotA has been partially completed, so expect that first chapter in some weeks.

* * *

It was a cold day here in the settlement. How did Nunnally know it was cold? The people in the shopping district were wearing coats and sweaters under the open sky.

From her vantage point at the head of the Mind's Eye network, she could see all the people going about their lives, heedless of the eyes that watched them, almost every hour of every day.

To the owner of those eyes, using the system was as close to freedom as she thought she could possibly get. With a single thought, her gaze shifted from the shopping district to a secluded street, and then on to a spot overlooking the War Memorial, where a ceremony of some sort was being performed. And in another thought, she was back to a different perspective of the shopping district, where there was now a crowd of people gathering around.

After a moment's pause, Nunnally scanned through all the images to the one she was looking for, that of Ashford Academy. The camera had been placed on a pole opposite the school so that it gazed straight at the main gates, and here she saw the students already heading out en masse.

She watched them saunter out in pairs, alone or in groups, laughing, crying or any other emotion they displayed, Nunnally could not be sure since she couldn't hear their voices.

But she watched them nonetheless, the people freely walking in their uniforms under the passing afternoon. She watched them, as always, with a strange feeling of hunger.

In all her views of the school, the one she wanted to see was of her brother's. But with him being usually late, she'd already be resting by the time he would walk out the gates.

It was a result of the conditions he'd met when he had enrolled there, as part of his mission.

"Can you believe that Ashford? I've been forced into the student council! And vice-president at that! It means I have all the responsibilities!" had been what her brother had ranted when he had come back on the first day.

"You'll only have all the responsibility if Milly isn't there, so what's the problem?" she'd asked.

"Nunnally," he'd said exasperatingly, "It's like you don't know Milly at all. At this position, I will..." her brother had then made a gesture.

Nunnally giggled, "So? For you, a little work here and there won't be that hard."

"Nunnally..."

"And besides," she added, "It's fun, isn't it? To be with Milly again, and meeting new friends, doing normal everyday work..."

"I don't want this normality!" he retorted. "It's...hard, for me."

"Nii-sama, remember what I told you last night? You have to do this, not just for the mission, but for me."

For her, whose orders had been ever consistent in their intent and purpose ("Stay hidden and keep watching." ), seeing her brother go to school like this was just about the same as if she was the one attending. To learn at your leisure, to spend your free time with friends, to experience a little bit of the new everyday - all that was denied her, and all that she sought for whenever she asked her brother, "How was your day?"As the cameras had not been set up inside the Academy itself, Nunnally was forced to imagine in her mind the images of the new world that her brother had entered: from the familiar, confident Milly, to responsible Shirley, goofy Rivalz and the shy Nina, and the things they kept on doing. The images of learning from a teacher, who went about the lessons without forcing you to a life-or-death situation, to be able to look at the person beside you and smile tiredly...

"Viewing time exceeded maximum allotted extension minutes. This system will be shut down.

Mind's Eye System forced shutdown in 3...

Sometimes, she would have a dream. It was ridiculously impossible if one thought about it for more than a few seconds, but it was a dream that she didn't and couldn't forget. In it, she was there, her sight and legs had been restored naturally, and she was laughing with faceless classmates, she was laughing with nii-sama and his friends, she moved about freely and without restraints, without fear...

2...

If she could have at least one day to do all that, one day to be Nunnally Lamperouge, mere student of Ashford Academy, then it'd be enough... She knew she'd treasure that

forever.

1...

The tiny and helpless pilot of the Morgana cried, her tears hidden behind the Mind's Eye device. The image of the students milling around the gate was flooded like a images - the real, the simulated and the fantasy, all seemed to blur altogether, and Nunnally lost herself in it. Even after the simulated had faded to grim darkness, and had combined with the real in a queer juxtaposition, the dream continued to burn like a small fire in Nunnally's mind.

* * *

It was rare for a patron of a secret project to himself make a grand entrance into your small facility and demand a status report.

It was rare for Prince Clovis to come to the facility himself with a grand entrance and ask (quite strongly, in spite of him) about the project.

The Code-R project that the Prince himself had sponsored, though secretly.

Leaving their liaison, the portly General Bartley to entertain their patron, the rest of the small group of scientists involved in this project continued in their daily work.

This small group had been sworn to secrecy some time ago by the Prince, through certain inflations in their personal bank accounts that made their spouse highly impressed at them for working in such a lucrative drug company. That had bought their silence at the start, but the rest of it was when they realized what exactly they were working with.

By then, they had no need of the Prince reminding them of the need for secrecy, it was enough to know the nature of their Project, and of its implications. For the project had the means to transcend the petty human limitation of mortality.

As scientists, they had been highly skeptic of this when the Prince had briefed them at the start. But when the subject had been brought in, and after numerous tests that would have killed a normal man many times over, the group had opened their collective eyes, and saw the implications.

To be able to work with and try to understand the nature of this immortality, was something they were doing even now. The girl was pliant and submissive, though if it was only because she was always put under heavy sedation, they couldn't say.

Yet there had been no breakthrough, even after the endless batteries of tests and operations. The Prince had become impatient, the group, even more so. They did not need to have Bartley continue breathing down their necks to know what was on the line here.

It would be the greatest scientific breakthrough in history, and the societal revolution that would inevitably follow. Their names (and maybe even more) would be immortalized, and they would be the harbingers of a "Pax Terra" that would probably last forever.

"Get another sample. I lost one because of the damned machinery."

"I hope Bartley's talking about replacing that thing to the Prince."

"Are you kidding? He's royalty, they can make gold appear with a snap of their fingers."

They all had a short laugh at that, even as they started another extraction process from the subject.

As usual, she had no reaction other than to gaze dully back at the scientist who drew the blood. If the men had not been wearing the glasses of desperate rationality, they would have found the girl extremely beautiful, sensual, and...lithe...

All they saw was a subject, whose body was drenched in sedation - leaving her like a life-sized human doll. It was a living doll that was proof of the promise of immortality.

In her mind, the girl waited patiently as she felt that old familiar feeling of pain in her arm.

_Not yet..._

_

* * *

_

The man from General Affairs abruptly sat up, forehead sweating and mind reeling from the dream he had been having.

In the space of a second, the man's panicked look dissolved into his usual expression, and as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, he glanced around with a wondering look before settling on the night view of the vast expanse of sea before him.

He was in a secluded place, on a cliff overlooking the blue Pacific. Behind him was a sea-view lodge that a shrewd Britannian noble had had built, and it was notably filled to the brim with tourists at this time of the year.

If not for them, the man would have booked a room in there, for a better view. Now he was forced to make up a camp on the cliffs below, out of sight of the security cameras.

Apparently, he had fallen asleep as he was reading a report on the datapad, and as he stooped to pick it up again, he saw it was another one from a surveillance team on the two subjects. Portland's little setup had come out perfectly, and the man knew that the devious Breaker was now sitting back and waiting for the reactions to occur.

"Like web-spinning spider. Eerie."

The man shivered. The man from General did not say anything, and did not object when Portland had raised this in a meeting, because it did not matter. If nothing else, it was just another sidestep in the general direction he wanted for the subjects.

Yet a single seed of doubt had settled into the man's mind. Suppose those two would never be able to move again, what then?

"Unnecessary doubts. Irrelevant. Not unsalvageable."

The man nodded reassuringly to himself as he fished around in his pockets to look for his cigarette box.

He found none.

"_Piste_"

* * *

Nunnally would never see Lelouch walk out of the gates that day even if she could, for Milly had on that very afternoon decided that the student council room should be revitalized.

"I fail to see how this is not enough," Lelouch said coldly as he gestured around the room. He had been writing the conclusion in his forty-page paper, an assignment a disgruntled teacher had given him for "knowing too much".

"I dunno...I agree that some things could be added," Rivalz said.

"Something like a food cart for instance? It should save Sayoko-san some time so she won't have to prepare it anymore," suggested Shirley.

"Nice idea, Shirley! We could add our own personal favorites so we can eat it anytime we want!" Milly agreed with an enthusiastic gesture.

"Are you turning this into another food hall?" Lelouch asked. Incidentally, he hadn't visited the food hall yet.

"Oh, oh, what about a mascot? A pet of sorts would be nice, like a cat or something," Rivalz added. He had stood up, obviously inflamed by the president's enthusiasm.

Milly nodded energetically at this. "We could make it a monthly thing! Something like a theme for each pet for everytime! That's such a nice idea, Rivalz!"

She turned her head in time to miss seeing him blush.

"This isn't a place for pet-keeping..."

"Um..."

Nina had reluctantly raised her hand. "It's not an addition per se, but I would like to bring my computer at home here...I'd like to donate it for student council purposes..."

"That's my Nina!" Milly had exclaimed. "Always with the best ideas!"

"You know, we could always have the school get one for us..."

"Oh, shut up, Lelouch, you haven't even given your idea yet. What's yours, pray tell?"

"Mine?" Lelouch sighed, concentrating on his paper. "Separate cubicles so we can do our homework in peace."

"What kind of idea is that? That's not very fun at all!"

"Then I give up." He continued to scribble on his work.

"Lulu, are you almost done with that?" Shirley asked concernedly.

"It's his own fault for getting punishment homework like that!" Milly smirked.

"Really cruel of the teacher to single you out like that, man. I mean, forty pages of nothing but words? I could kill myself if I was given that." Rivalz said with a clouded expression as he watched Lelouch write.

"It's no problem for me. If I wanted to protest, I'd have done so verbally back then." It was really that minor for Lelouch, who was accustomed to writing up long battle-reports as his other persona.

"But still, it's nice to see you're actually doing good on that Lulu. I'm with Rivalz, I could have begged in tears or something if that happened to me."

"Let's stop fawning on the delinquent ("Why am I a delinquent?") and focus on our ideas, people!" Milly had cut in with a light thwack to the table. Barring Lelouch's horrible idea, we have a food cart, a live mascot, a dress-up room ("You just added that in for yourself, didn't you?") and a computer.

"Well," Milly said with a satisfied sigh. "Those are all good ideas, but they aren't enough. We should expand more, to really spice this place up."

"President!" Shirley then said. "I think it's fine if we start it slow, I mean we only just started the council, right? Isn't it good to start at the basics? It will be our foundation, and we'll look back to the pet, the food cart, the computer and the dress-up room with fondness when we grow older..."She'd grown increasingly flushed in the face as she said that, when she was suddenly at the center of attention, all eyes turned to her.

"...so then..."

"That's MY Shirley!" Milly shouted as she ran up to hug the orange-haired girl.

"Eh...?" Shirley was shocked at being hugged so suddenly, even more so as Milly proclaimed quickly afterward, "Now quickly everyone! The day's almost over, but I think we can snag a food cart to celebrate Shirley here! I think there's a shop down at..."

"You mean right now?"

"Yes, right now! We need to go down there, buy the student council a food cart, get some actual food, come back here and enjoy it for the first time!"

"Alright! Let's do this, then!" Rivalz said, inflamed twice as much now.

"If we can hurry, we can make the five o'clock train..." muttered Nina slowly.

"Come on then, let's not dilly-dally in here! Lelouch!" Milly admonished the raven-haired youth, who was still writing with head bowed.

"Pass," he said without looking up.

"What?" "Lulu?" "What're you saying, man?", their voices came in unison.

He rubbed his forehead in frustration as he said, slowly and deliberately, "I have a paper to write. I am busy. I will stay here and 'hold the fort' so we can enjoy it later. Please enjoy yourselves."

The others were about to leave it at that, but Milly was adamant.

"No excuses from a delinquent like you. Get up or I'm forfeiting your vice-president privileges."

"I had privileges?"

Spurred on by the other members of the student council, Lelouch reluctantly and very slowly stood up and allowed himself to be dragged out by the enthusiastic Milly. As she dragged the sullen, raven-haired boy along, Milly felt a sudden surge of heady pleasure, for being able to have enjoyable times like this with her old friend (and new friends). This small "victory" for her would be only one of many she planned to have, for a future purpose only the heiress of the Ashford family knew.

It was a raucous journey to the shopping district, with Lelouch being literally dragged by the others forward. It was no surprise, for the boy was stubbornly and deliberately slowing himself down in a feeble attempt to spite them.

The passersby looked on with suspicion at the blob of bodies that was the student council of Ashford, lumbering down a street in the shopping district and talking animatedly amongst themselves.

Finally, things came to a head when the blob collapsed in on itself, and they toppled down onto the sidewalk in a messy tangle of bodies. The passersby grew even more concerned, so a crowd started to form around the pile.

"Are you alright?"

No reply came but the sounds of much giggling and laughter as the pile dissolved into five very disheveled teens. After an apologetic bow, the group set off once more down the street - still having to drag Lelouch along.

For the perplexed Shirley, this whole trip was ridiculous, and she would never be caught dead doing this sort of thing with her friends in public. But there was something gratifying to forcing the enigma to do things, like dragging him along against his will.

The girl gained a certain type of pleasure when she looked at Lelouch's discomfited face. She didn't really care about the food cart, but she was glad that she had suggested it, for it allowed her to do these sort of things with her savior. The boy had not made any mention of his rescue, but Shirley was content to leave it at that. There would be other opportunities in the future.

On the other hand, Lelouch was mentally and physically balking at this outrageous new demand of Milly's. Although he'd mentioned that he was averse to going because of his paper, there was a hidden reason that had more to do with his other identity.

Many times since he started enrolling in the Academy, Lelouch had caught himself from displaying too much positive emotion. He'd told himself that it was wrong to feel this way, and quite unfair to Nunnally. The youth felt that these "farces" were the height of idiocy and insulted his and Nunnally's condition.

_Easy, it's just part of the mission, nothing more..._

Unlike the journey coming to the shopping district, the buying of the food cart itself and the return trip to the Academy was a subdued affair, something that seemed to suit both Lelouch and Nina - although everyone seemed to be in a good mood overall.

Back at the Academy, both boys in the council carried the newly bought addition to their room while the girls went down to the food hall for the preliminary stocking of their new food cart. They then spent another hour, having a little party in the room.

Milly then heaped loads of praise on Shirley for such an excellent idea. It was suggested that the boys bring in Nina's tomorrow, much to Lelouch's chagrin. Another sigh, not his last, escaped his mouth as he nibbled on some bread.

_So this is what the food down there tastes like._

_

* * *

_

"Here are the results, ma'am. It's...another failure."

"No need to state the obvious..." muttered Dr. Aiyme disconsolately as she received the simulation results from her assistant.

Yet another week had gone by, and the new CORE system that was supposed to have been developed by now for the Morgana was still a bust.

Perhaps it was a flaw in the people under her in her department, as they'd not had any breakthroughs at all. _But then_, Aiyme thought disparagingly,_ I'm in the same boat. No genius epiphanies from this useless noggin..._

She rubbed her bagged eyes and sipped cold coffee from a tumbler. Ever since she had started her role as the interim head, she'd started spending more of her days down at the Morgana hangar, overseeing research on the CORE and the comings-and-goings of the Knightmare itself as it embarked on missions.

She'd also chosen that part, because it was as far as possible from Valdez's own workshop. The slightly unhinged scientist had been howling at her heels ever since he heard that she had been made interim leader over him. As leader, Aiyme ensured that he still have his (miniumum) share of the sakuradite, and nothing more. Apparently, that had not been enough for the man, whose behavior then worsened to the point of hourly threats over the commlink.

At that, Aiyme had a strange sense of foreboding. Come to think of it, she hadn't heard the madman for some days now. What could he be doing? One thing for sure, Rouche Aiyme was not know for leaving loose ends lying around. If the relative silence from the normally abrasive man was an indication of what was going on, then she'd be stupid not to nip whatever that was in the bud before he could light a fire under her.

Thinking this, Aiyme stood to leave the hangar, signalling to some of the technicians to start the next batch of tests without her.

The certain feeling of uncertainty followed the esteemed engineer as she headed outside to the labyrinthine corridors that lined the facility. Her foreboding seemed to fuel her strides as she furiously went in the direction of Valdez's workshop.

She would not put it past the insane idiot were he trying something as reckless or ridiculous as, for example, wrecking the facility with his own creations, or worse, instigating a hostile takeover of the Project. (at the last, she was reassured, the man had as much influence on the other members of the project as a head louse)

The scientist was too occupied in her worried thoughts that she crashed straight into the back of Rimes Duran when she turned a corner.

"Ow! Who in the - "

"Who's there?"

Aiyme found herself lying on top of Duran's fallen body, and she hurriedly stood to straighten herself when she was able.

Grumbling, the sole developer of the Mind's Eye stood in his turn and adjusted and adjusted something on top of his head that had apparently been disturbed in the collision.

"Ah, Miss Aiyme. Did you just discover that you need the Mind's Eye or is pushing down the blind man a daily ritual for you bored Heads nowadays? Not that I'm bored myself or anything..." the scientist said sarcastically.

"It was an accident, Duran. I'm in a bit of a hurry, as you can see..."

"...Well, I don't see. Not now, anyway," he added before fiddling with the device on his head. After a rhythmic hum, the Mind's Eye activated, and Duran "stared" appraisingly at the other scientist. "So what's the hurry - breakthrough?"

"No, just going to check something. I've got this gut feeling that there's something I have to confirm by myself," Aiyme replied distractedly as she walked past Duran.

"Everyone seems to be in a hurry now. First there's Valdez, then you...there should be a rule to ban running in the corridors or something-"

"What?" Aiyme interrupted. She had stopped walking and was now turning back to the blind scientist. "Did - that man bump into you earlier?"

"Yep, in a corridor just like you, though not as apologetic. He looked like he was really in a hurry too..."

Duran was highly surprised when the esteemed engineer suddenly grabbed both of his arms in a desperate hold. "Which way did he go? It's important!"

"I-"

"QUICKLY!"

"I'm not really sure itwasinacorridorbackthere - OWOWOWOW! Not the coat! OKAY! OKAY! That way, that way!" Duran screamed as his arms turned to mush under the scientist's iron grip. As the now panicking Aiyme stormed off in the direction he'd pointed, Duran muttered,

"That was a really strong grip..." as he massaged his sore arms. "Now I get what the rumors meant..."

_That man, I knew he would try something! But what? And why there?_The direction which Duran had pointed to lead to the sakuradite store room, a vast area that housed barrels upon barrels of the precious resource. Would the man attempt to sneak a few barrels out for his own twisted purposes? If so, Aiyme thought as she stormed past sector after sector, it was high time then for her to exercise her powers as administrator, and make the man pay.

Her worst fears were confirmed when she saw the guards posted to the store room lying on the ground. They weren't dead, merely incapacitated, but this only pointed to that man being responsible.

"What in the name of all that is reasonable are you doing?" Aiyme shrieked as she ran to the door, staring at the ill-shaven man that was poking the side of one of the barrels with a crowbar.

The man looked over his shoulder, and immediately the face twisted into an expression of violent defiance. "Well, if it isn't the malicious harpy! You're too late. Just a few more inches and I-"

Aiyme lashed out in a way that was a far cry from her usual cool self - her face was a mask of rage like the man's.

"YOU IDIOT! OF ALL THE INSANE, MISERABLE THINGS YOU'VE DONE, THIS IS THE WORST! AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A GENIUS? WELL-"

"Yes, I am."

Momentarily deflated by the flat reply, the red-faced scientist spluttered on her words, as the man continued in his defiant, magnanimous manner: "Yes, it is precisely BECAUSE of my genius that I need this! Without sakuradite, as YOU well know, I cannot create! My labors won't take fruit! And no one, not even a shrieking harpy, will stop me!" Valdez's eyes glinted dangerously in the dim lights.

Just then, there was an audible click, followed by a persistent hiss. Aiyme's eyes widened as she saw the crowbar sink deeper into the barrel.

"Do NOT stick that in any further, Valdez! no more or I'll..."

"Too late." Inch by inch, the madman stuck the crowbar further in, and after another beeping sound, the world turned instantly white for both of the department heads.

* * *

"Didja hear that?"

With the sound of wheels turning, a brown-haired man emerged from the underbelly of the truck he'd been servicing.

"Hear what, Tamaki?", asked another man who was sitting close, examining something on a nearby table.

"I dunno, heh, must've been my imagination..."

"Tamaki, did you start taking Refrain?" the other says half-jokingly.

"That's not a joke, Ohgi! I was being serious there...what if that sound was from a Britannian patrol or something?" Tamaki said, sounding hurt.

"Well, I didn't hear anything, and even if there was, then Yoshida'd have alerted us already." The curly-haired Resistance fighter sighed, crumpling up a faded sheet of paper in his hand. "It's no good, The people from the Hand of Heaven say they're looking for a better target..."

"Hah! Those wimps are just looking for easy prey like an army convoy or something," Tamaki smirked.

"And the Blood Debts have some issue about working with you..."

"What? I'll give Shuichi a taste of my mind next time I see him in the factory!" exclaimed an outraged Tamaki.

"Well, that sums it up, no one wants to work with us...Even when Naoto sent all those letters..." Kaname Ohgi sighed despondently as he lifted his arm and tossed the crumpled paper like a basketball.

"Damnit, don't those idiots realize that we can only do it with Naoto's way? How long are they gonna just sit on their bums?" muttered Tamaki resentfully from under the truck. "It won't be long before that Britannian black-ops thing comes in and wipes each of us from the map."

"Don't say that, man."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that," replied Tamaki apologetically. "It's just...you know, it's really helpless just sitting at the factory, hoping and waiting, while your country goes to the dumps around you. It's not a pretty thought."

"Well then, you should take the initiative and DO something! Are you done with the repairs yet?" Ohgi chuckled.

Grateful for steering the tone of the conversation, Tamaki grunted, "Yeah...just a little while longer. Those Britannians really did a number on this thing. Hold on, where was that damn screw again?" With another sound of wheels, Tamaki reemerged, oil covering his face as he looked for something in the toolbox. As he went under again, he asked,

"So what do you think Naoto's gonna be announcing? That he's accepted me as his new brother-in-law? Hell yeah, I think I'm gonna be liking this meeting..."

Ohgi laughed, "It's a one-in-a-million chance of that happening, man. You know how protective he is when it comes to Kallen."

Tamaki whistled, "And who wouldn't be, with a girl like that? You've seen her, you know what she's already turning into."

Even as he laughed together with Tamaki, Ohgi couldn't help but feel the hopelessness the other had echoed just before, about their current situation. Certainly, their leader, Naoto Kouzuki was a brilliant man, one with a dream to match his determination to free Japan, but what could their small resistance group do against a more powerful force like Britannia?

Miracles wouldn't come easily to them, so easily were they swept under the Britannian bootheel in the first place. Indeed, it required such people as their leader, or better yet, a man like that of Toudou the Man of Miracles, to bring hope to their beleagured existences.

But even with their overwhelming disadvantage, they had something going on for them, something that all who fought like them carried inside, like an eternal candle.

Each and everyone had a dream.

* * *

Naoto Kouzuki had a dream. What that dream was, he only confided in his sister, and his most closest friends. It was a dream that lived on in him, sparked not just by the Britannian conquest, but by his own aspiration.

And now that he was the leader of a small resistance cell, he was determined to make true that dream, one way or another. Not just for his nation, his countrymen, his friends, but also for his mother, and his beloved sister.

It was a dream he hoped to make reality with his actions, even when those actions led him down a dark and dangerous path.

At the thought of Kallen, Naoto looked down at her picture placed neatly on the corner of the table. Amidst all the maps, logistic reports and other things related, there stood out clearly the picture of his family, and beautiful young Kallen's stood out most of all.

She would be turning fifteen soon, a delicate age, and Naoto wanted it to be a peaceful time for her as could possible be. Already, she was showing promise as an intelligent young lady, and he was considering petitioning their estranged father to have her admitted in Ashford Academy.

If she could land a potential suitor for herself, then so much the better, as she would then be assured of a better life, away from the potential squalor being an "Eleven" could bring her.

"But so much for that..." he muttered. He looked at the watch that hung on the wall and saw that it was almost time for the meeting. He'd called the members of his cell over tonight to meet at their secret base for a meeting, where he hoped to brief them in on their new mission.

It would be one of many missions where he hoped to be able to convince the still distant Japan Liberation Front that the resistance was still active even from the small time groups, and that the rumors of hushed up Britannian retribution did not deter them one bit.

All for the sake of his dream.

He looked out the window and saw the piles of ammunition that had been gathered there, their latest (and probably last, if they didn't succeed here) partition from the JLF. The courier had mentioned that the supplies had actually been easy to divide up now that there were fewer of them to give to, but that was not a pleasing thought.

Thinking to get his head cooled off from thinking, he descended the building and went out into the brisk, cold night air to where the boxes were. The comfort of having a cloudy overcast tonight was a better shroud for their activities, and he hoped it would stay that way for their future missions.

As he stood regarding the boxes, he was aware of a slight, crunching sound that, in the relative silence of this night, was just as loud as that of a blaring car in daytime. Naoto stiffened, heart pounding and senses heightening at this unnatural sound.

He had told Ohgi and the others to come in on the truck, as that truck would be useful to them, but what if it had still not been fixed? What if they were forced to go on foot, thus producing that unnatural sound?

He had chosen this place as their new base precisely because of its remoteness, no one was currently living in the dilapidated ruins of buildings that surrounded them, so-

There it was again. Another unnatural sound, like metal grinding on metal. Naoto's caution screamed at him now, to hide, but the cool part of his head started moving.

Looking about the ruined buildings, he strained his eyes for a glimmer, an indication of that thing that was making those noises. If it was indeed the rumored Britannian black- ops unit, then this overcast helped them as much as him, but not by much.

Going for the safe approach, Naoto swiftly headed back for the building, extinguishing the lights upstairs. Along the way, he grabbed an RPG launcher from the box and armed it, preparing for the worst.

If it would ever come to a terrible point, then Naoto needed to make sure that his friends wouldn't be hurt - and that these intruders would be foiled by an empty base. It was also a chance to discover who exactly these people were, an excellent starting point for the still confused resistance, who did not know what exactly was killing their comrades.

So thinking, the resistance leader crouched in the darkness, weapon in hand and night- vision binocular strapped to his eyes, waiting for whatever it was that he knew was coming.

Terse moments passed in the dark, accentuated by an eerie hush that had fallen over the place, as the sounds had seemed not to come anymore. Still Naoto waited, hoping that the others wouldn't stumble wildly here before that unit would strike.

_Maybe that's what they're waiting for? _That would certainly make more sense, if they were able to see the empty base now. And that meant that his friends were even now walking into the crosshairs of an enemy trap.

But he didn't have to make drastic measures as the metallic sounds came back again, this time louder and with a longer duration. And it was unmistakably, drawing closer and closer to their base.

He saw it as a humongous shadow, framed in between the buildings. With a sound that echoed amongt the desolate buildings it grew closer, and Naoto was able to see it clearer and clearer with each meter. Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, the being came into full focus, and the sight of it framed in his binoculars was something that made even his normally calm face collapse in horror.

It was huge. It seemed to dwarf the buildings on either side of it. Undoubtedly, it was a Knightmare, judging from its metallic sheen, but it was more than just the normal humanoid robots that Britannia was using to patrol its streets.

No, this thing was bigger, and even more of a potential threat than a squad of Knightmares (which the JLF had suggested) could ever be. This was a monster, and it was bent on killing his countrymen.

As Naoto clutched the launcher firmly in his grip, he drifted off in his mind. He was at a crossroads, and choosing one way would seal his fate whichever happened.

On one hand, if he were to run now, he might be able to intercept Ohgi and the others, preventing them from being so mercilessly slaughtered by this thing. But he knew that if this was indeed the one responsible for the killings, then it would need the forces of the entire JLF to take it out. The way it was now radiating an aura of dread was proof of its brutal might.

On the other, this might actually be a chance to strike a mighty blow against Britannia! If he played his cards right, he would be able to make several successful blows against the still unsuspecting crew of that strange, huge Knightmare, possibly even disabling it. If he could pull that off, then he'd be able to singlehandedly put a stop to whatever it was Britannia was planning, and finally be able to take a small step towards liberating his homeland!

Both had its merits, but only one had the risk of the ultimate price. Deep in Naoto Kouzuki's psyche, the decision of honor against survival struggled fiercely, in the space of a moment that lasted for mere moments, but to him was that of a hundred years.

Finally, as his thoughts recalled Kallen and his friends, and that of his duty to his homeland, there could only be one real answer. As he stood in the dark, holding the launcher like a scepter, Naoto Kouzuki came to one conclusion.

After all, a man had his dreams, and if he wouldn't work towards that dream, then what use was he as a man?

* * *

"I have confirmed sighting of several boxes of what appears to be ammunition. There are some late-era weapons, and some that looks like it was stolen from Britannian arms storage, but..." Subject R. frowned in his cockpit, hands poised on the controls. There was no sign of any movement.

After he had come home - late, he had been greeted by a desperate looking Nunnally, who had told him that there had been an emergency transmission involving their next target. Naturally, the two of them sped away from their safehouse with haste and into the designated meeting spot where the Morgana had been delivered ashore.

It had been a short trip to this place - and the mission itself should've been shorter, if the description of their target was any indication, but as they reached the target area, the two of them were dumbfounded to find nothing but a pile of boxes out on the street.

Due to the nature of their mission, they were expected not to use any of the Morgana's illuminating tools, so they were working with the low-light vision from the Merlin module's factspheres and the light from the target's own base to see. But here in this starkly dark area, there was nothing that illuminated the base - almost as if there was no one there at all.

Had they been tricked? Was this another one of that man's schemes, tricking them by some action to garner some form of reaction from them? Lelouch flipped through the images sent by the Factspheres impatiently as he thought about it.

Subject N.'s clear voice chirped in from the comm device, "What is your suggestion, Subject R.?" Nunnally was waiting for Lelouch's orders as faithfully as ever.

"We will have to wait. If there will be no change by the time the core has reached 50% maximum output, we can do nothing but withdraw." Subject R. decided as he crossed his fingers in front of him as he set the Merlin module to idleness. He felt oddly impatient, a strange emotion, especially if he was impatient for something like THIS.

_And who's to blame for that?_ Briefly, he envisioned the large, invisible figure that always seemed to dwell in their shadow. He shivered in spite of himself, and was glad that the interior of his cockpit was always warm.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

_What?_Subject R.'s nerves jolted at the sudden scream of alarm that blared at him from the flashing screens in front of him. In the space of a second, his whole world was rocked by gigantic tremors as he felt something big impact his cockpit.

The boy screamed in surprise and anger as he was knocked back by the motions in the cockpit, oblivious to the panicked voice of alarm that was now coming from the comm.

* * *

"_NII-SAMA!"_

Momentarily forgetting protocol, and the fact that they had just been attacked, Nunnally screamed into the comm device.

The attack had come from nowhere. One moment, she was relaxing from her brother's orders, in the next, bone-jarring one, the Morgana was sent reeling as something impacted the very spot where her brother's cockpit had been.

The girl did not need to listen to her brother's yells of pain to realize he had been affected by it, but it was painful to realize nonetheless.

"Are you alright?_ NII-SAMA_!"

She desperately wanted an answer from her brother, who was now eerily silent through the comm device.

"No..."

This could not be happening. Not to her brother, the one person she wanted to protect in the whole wide world. So she failed again? How could she have...?

The bigger question was, how could they DARE to hurt her brother?

Tears burning hotly at the edge of her eyes, Nunnally forced her trembling arms into motion, as they clamped down fiercely on the controls.

Beneath her, the Morgana hummed almost appreciatively as it was now seemingly in sync with its Devicer.

Never had Nunnally felt this sort of union with the detestable machine, so united in cold rage with the towering Knightmare that seemed to purr in anticipation.

The Mind's Eye was like a red haze, and Nunnally Lamperouge lashed out like a fierce tide on an unsuspecting shore.

From outside, one could see the Morgana start by almost casually launching its harkens at the grand pile of boxes, igniting it and causing a great explosion. And then, with a great mechanical whirr, the guns on its sides began to spit molten fury on everything - the buildings, the streets, the cloudy sky.

When the salvo was over, the Morgana proceeded to swiftly decimate what was left. From the cracked buildings to the torn-up concrete the claws, glinting in a paroxysm of drunken glee, raked and slashed through everything there was.

It was a testament to the machine's destructive power as slab after slab was mercilessly torn from the very earth, and the buildings were reduced to their earthy foundations with each rending swing. The Morgana struck with blind fury, but it was as precise in its assault as always.

In between the sounds of concrete keening as they were sheared by the still untarnished claws and rocks falling impotently to the scarred ground, one might have heard a similar scream seem to echo from somewhere inside the behemoth.

* * *

Lelouch shook his head as he came to. He had a throbbing pain somewhere at the back of his head, and he realized, as he touched the place where it hurt, that it was bleeding somewhat.

_Nunnally!_ First priority was always his sister, as he reached his hand to input something on the keyboard. "Subject N..." he called weakly. "Are you-?"

The boy became momentarily alarmed when he heard his sister crying on the other side of the line. "Sub-Nunnally, did something happen? What-"

Lelouch's eyes widened in naked surprise as the images from the Factspheres loaded on his screen. On it was displayed a scene of utter devastation, a far cry from the normal ruins he had just seen moments ago.

"Did you..." the boy uttered, dumbstruck and horrified at the scene's implication.

"Nunnally...what...Nunnally! Please answer!"

* * *

"Nunnally!"

The Morgana's hummed lazily as it cooled in the night air, its claws hanging limply at its sides. As its Devicer's impulse subsided, its lust for battle seemed to cease too as it waited almost impatiently for its pilot's next command.

Inside, Nunnally had put her head down on the cockpit, her chest heaving up and down as she choked on her tears - despite her brother's desperate cries over the comm.

Her arms were crossed over her heart, in an expression of utter shame and self-loathing.

* * *

The first sign had been the smoke that could be seen from the distance.

Then there had been the scent of burnt concrete, drifting over the dry night air.

"Tamaki."

"I know, damnit." The driver of the truck didn't need to be told twice as Tamaki sped down towards their secret base.

The occupants of that truck looked at each other with a growing worry - it was as if their worst fears had been confirmed.

For his part, Ohgi's thoughts were a wreck as he struggled to prepare his mind - even as he denied it still - for the worst.

"Damnit."

Total ruin greeted them as they arrived. Ohgi licked his now dry lips as he surveyed the scene motionlessly, even as he called out-

"Naoto?"

"Louder, maybe he can't hear us."

"Naoto!"

"Naoto! Damnit, where are you?"

_This cannot be here, not now, when Kallen just.._. Ohgi willed himself to move as he joined in the others' search over the shredded stones - big and small, that littered the area.

By himself, he started to dig at a spot, his hands clawing in desperation as he shook small debris off.

Without realizing it, the members of Naoto Kouzuki's cell were now utterly covered in dust and soot, yet they did not care as they continued their search, ignoring the truth that their brains were throwing at them; ever calling out their leader's name...

"Ohgi! Damnit, anyone, help!"

Tamaki's cry for help was followed by a string of curses that no one bothered to scold, so intent were they to head to where he was. It was all that the few men could do to lift the huge slab of rock, but lift they did with a surge of strength that would have amazed them hours ago.

"No..."

The initial sight that greeted them almost instantly brought tears to their eyes. There lay their noble leader, his entire lower body crushed under a slab bigger than the one they had just lifted. They would have had the strength to lift even that, had it not been for the cloying smell of blood that was even now oozing down the ground.

"DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIIIIIT!"

"Naoto," Ohgi whispered as he kneeled down to take his old friend's visible hand. He was relieved when he felt that there was still a pulse - slight, but it was still there, so-

"Someone, find help! We need to have him out there ASAP! Quickly, or-"

"Every...one..."

Ohgi choked to a stop when he heard his friend speak.

"DAMNIT! NAOTO, BRITANNIA WILL PAY, I PROMISE YOU!"

Naoto Kouzuki's eyes opened, and he beheld, through a thin mist, the faces of his comrades, his most dearest friends.

His body was on fire, numbed as it was by the minutes of pain already. Instinctively, he just KNEW, and he also knew that the only, small thing he could do now was...

"Ohgi..." Ignoring the blood that oozed down freely from his mouth, he pressed the thing that he had held in his right hand on the curly-haired man. "Take this...proof of Britannia's...Only thing..."

He gasped, out of breath. Struggling to form his words, he looked with a fierce determination at his old friend. "Continue...the fight. Fight, for the future. For Japan. Fight, most of all...for dream...my...your dream..."

The others silently watched this horrific and painful scene, and it took no small amount of willpower not to look away. Meanwhile, Tamaki had balled up his hands so hard that his nails were already drawing blood.

"Ohgi...you..." He shook, as his pain was now so unbearable that all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep. Steeling himself one last time, he said in the clearest voice ever, "Ohgi, protect everyone's dream, for the sake of the future. Please p-p-protect Kallen's..."

With heads bowed, the members of Naoto Kouzuki's cell wept, the only tears that they could ever cry in a long time. They continued to stay like this for quite some time after, even as the heavens burst to shower the earth with a slight drizzle.

The water washed away the blood that had been spilt over the stones, carrying them over and away into the depths of the ruins - rendering Naoto's body clean and pure as if he was just alive. The water also washed them from Ohgi's hand that was still holding on to his departed friend's own. In his other, he clenched the photograph that had been given to him by his friend in his last moments.

"I will do it, Naoto...I will carry your dream...and it will be everyone's..."

* * *

Daily Diary

"...And six weeks of nothing but repairs for the old storeroom. That's an additional cost, plus add the fact that we have to get twice the amount of sakuradite in the next shipment! It's a good thing we had strong reinforcement for that room, or we'd have been obliterated in that blast...the only good pleasure I can get from this infuriating setback is the fact that HIS own workshop will be the temporary storeroom, while he'll be working under close guard ten levels below in the heat!...It's a good thing I was in that good of a mood, because it helped when I saw the 'bruise' that had appeared on the Morgana when it came back. Upon closer inspection, it apparently came from some lethal tankhunter type of RPG, something that would probably shred a Glasgow cockpit. But it didn't shred the Morgana, just bruise it, nothing that another maintenance can't fix..This bruise shows exactly how tough my baby is, I can almost feel my tears well up from this, this pride at seeing one's baby work!"

Dr. Rouche Aiyme


	19. SubPhase 19: Flayed Souls

Author's Note: Again, I have to apologize (to you people who are somehow following this) for the lack of updates when I specifically said in a previous note that I wouldn't. Lemme tl;dr it for ya: right as I was about to upload this chapter, I finally got an okay on the house that I was going to buy, so that entailed an immediate moving, nerve-racking clearing out of the old apartment and all that jazz. Thanks to that, and a promotion at work, I also decided upgrade my decade old computer. Lo and behold, as I allowed the technician to wipe out the hard drives without backuping, POOF went a decade of memories ;_;

After things settled down a bit, I finally got down to reinstalling essential features on the computer and just now, I've finished reuploading subphase 19. Subphase 20 - short chapter, will probably be next weekend, assuming I don't stealth upload sometime at work. So...yay me, I guess.

The song featured in a scene here is credited to a particular track, the first upbeat track that played when I shuffled my iPod for a song. It's title is "23:50" by a band called GirlDeMo. Until next time, loyal (ha!) readers...

* * *

The sun dozed lazily in the crisp blue sky as it shone down rays of temperamental heat on the Tokyo Settlement of Area Eleven. At this time of the day, the daytime shopping malls of the Settlement were just about to open, and the other establishments that had just opened were already bustling with Britannians. One of those was Ashford Academy, one of the most notable landmarks in the Settlement.

The heat blazed down on the grounds of Ashford Academy, forcing its student council president, Milly Ashford, to close the blinds of the clubroom.

"Did Lulu say anything, prez?" came Shirley's worried question. She and the rest of the council were seated around the central table going over their textbooks.

Milly smiled sadly as she shook her head. "He's not one to tell other people freely about his intentions."

"My guess is he took a sick day and he just didn't bother to tell us," said Rivalz absentmindedly. Unlike Shirley or Nina on either side of him, he was merely doodling on  
the edges of his book.

"Well, that's what makes him who he is," sighed Milly disconsolately. It had been almost a month since she'd been reunited with one of her estranged childhood friends, and she thought that she was getting no closer to finding out the mystery that was Lelouch.

After a moment, her face cleared as she said in a lighter tone, "But so much for my absent second-in-command: I'm still here, so let's get some student council work done!"

"Work?" asked Nina.

"Yep," Milly said as she walked across the room to the adjoining one. Upon returning, she was carrying heaps of manila folders bundled up haphazardly with rope. With a heaving sigh, she plopped the whole pile on the table with an audible thud.

"Start-of-the-year leaflets for the incoming students," grinned the president, ignoring the others' wide open mouths. "We have to organize them according to year, gender and class, AND we have to organize it alphabetically."

The other members looked at each other, each wanting the other to speak up. As no one had the courage to, they could do nothing but silently accede.

"Alright, let's start!"

* * *

The safe house's landlady would have been furious had she seen the sight that one of her rooms had been reduced to.

The bed was on its side, the torn sheets covering it like cobwebs. The solitary table had been torn apart, and one of its legs had been embedded deep into a wall. The window drapes fluttered hopelessly like torn butterfly wings in the morning breeze.

Fallen on the floor was a computer terminal, and on the screen was displayed a short message. Next to it, a large machine lay with its innards exposed and bristling dangerously with live wires.

At the center of all this stood a uniformed boy holding a battered piece of wood. His normally pristine raven hair was disheveled, and on his face was an expression of intense frustration. The boy was biting his lip, and his violet eyes shimmered as his hands shook with repressed rage.

Lelouch Lamperouge had just experienced a traumatizing event, one of his worst yet. His first, of course, had been the death of his mother, and one could hardly fault the boy if he'd have done even worse to the room had it happened again.

_Last night, after the dust had settled, Nunnally had acted strange, completely __ignoring her brother's calls over the comm. Lelouch had then become desperate, and __activated the emergency protocol which handed over control of the metallic monstrosity to __him._

_At the same time, he'd activated a protocol in his cockpit that started to broadcast an __SOS signal to the people who were in charge, and the only thought Lelouch had as he __awkwardly maneuvered the hulk to one of the drop-off points was frantic concern over his __sister._

_To the madmen of the Project, who seemed to care NOTHING for their playthings, the top __priority had been to secure his sister. That would have been fine for the boy had he, __upon exiting out of the cockpit, accompanied his sister back to wherever they were taking __her._

_Instead, he was swiftly surrounded by armed men on the ground as soon as he descended __from his cockpit. _

_"Get out of my way, bastards! My sister has been hurt!"_

_His eyes were glued to Nunnally the whole time as she was carefully extracted and lowered __from her cockpit. His chest burned upon seeing her still crying and shaking._

_"Nunnally!"_

_He was quickly strong-armed into the ground in the instant that he was about to push his __way through. _

_"NO! YOU WON'T KEEP ME FROM HER!"_

_The boy struggled, his mind and body on fire. But there was no way he could overcome a __horde of men pinning him down even if he had all the adrenaline in the world. _

_He was able to see his sister through their legs, just before he felt a pain in his __thigh, being laid out on a stretcher of sorts. She was still twitching and shaking, a __heart-rending sight for her brother who was now drifting into a dreamless sleep._

_His fury abated, his misty eyes sought after her pleadingly, even as he felt like a __pillow had been placed inside his brain, smothering his mind until his eyes were forced __to droop close. _

_The boy saw nothing but darkness for what seemed like a mere moment, before his eyes __opened abruptly and he saw that he was inside their safehouse._

He had been laid out on the bed, strangely clothed not in the standard suit from before but in the Ashford Academy uniform. His mind still groggy, he'd turned his head to his left to see a computer terminal turned on right beside him.

The boy had immediately risen, grabbing the terminal close. As his still tired eyes adjusted to the light, he'd clicked on a glowing link that looked like an envelope.

Immediately, a message had been displayed, and after looking at the top, Lelouch deduced that it was about Nunnally. Sitting straight up, he willed his sluggish mind to read, and it took some willpower to stop his hands from shaking as he read.

Moments later, the sound of the computer being thrown mightily onto the floor was heard, followed by the crashes and bumps that preceded a young man's rampage in this little room.

_How dare they?_ Nunnally - SUBJECT N. was reported to have been calmed down, and was recovering in the facility (wherever that was). That had been good news to the brother, but the next paragraph had not been remotely good at all.

That due to her present condition, she would have to stay in the facility for some time.

That assuredly, their missions would be restarted as soon as the Devicer had recovered.

That his new orders were not "We would like you to withdraw from the field as well", but

"Continue performing your duties"?

"Damn it!"

Why couldn't he be there? Why couldn't he be at the side of his most precious thing in the world? What point was there in continuing this farce if an unexpected variable in the process had occured? Why did HE have to continue "going to school" and so, as far away from his sister as he could ever be?

To the boy, asking those questions inside his head, this was the height of lunacy. He'd watched, helplessly and agonizingly, his sister break down in front of him.

A bitter oversight: he should have been there at the start.

Why hadn't he just exited the cockpit at that moment, and comforted Nunnally himself? Why had he chosen to leave it to all to the monsters who cared nothing for them?

"Foolish..."

Yes, it had been a stupid action on his part as well. But, but, but...

The boy was disturbed from the violence of his inner soul at a tentative knock on the door. It was the landlady, judging from the concerned voice that filtered through the cracks.

Knowing that they would be kicked out should she see the devastation he'd caused on the room, Lelouch ignored the knocks, willing silently for the annoyance to go away. NO! Not now, I don't need this! Not while he was still like this. Not while Nunnally was away.

Not while the boy was floundering helplessly on the shallow streams of his existence.

_Go away._

"Nunnally..." the boy ground his teeth hard.

* * *

Humming excitedly, the genius scientist Lloyd Asplund pushed a button on the terminal in front of him. A picture of a giant robot appeared briefly on the large screen before it dissolve into a progress bar - showing "Connecting, please wait" above it.

Still humming a familiar tune from his past, the scientist propelled his body to spin in the revolving chair, his eyes glistening giddily. Why was this scientist, already prominent in the Britannian scientific community, acting this way? Certainly the image of a scientist devoted to his work should've been more composed, only expressing a sort of "suppressed emotion" in light of a sudden breakthrough?

Was it because the scientist had finally completed the final piece in his masterwork, the revolutionary Knightmare Frame prototype informally known as the Z-01? Was it because with this, he was one step closer to seeing his brain-child finally start operating, to open its proverbial wings, so to speak?

"Brilliant...magnificent..."

Starting abruptly, he stopped the chair and minimized the connecting program on the computer, clicking on another link afterwards. On the screen was then displayed the pictures of his baby that was even now being tinkered on by his assistants in the hangar downstairs.

He almost drooled as his eyes devoured each aspect of the Z-01 in every picture that scrolled past. He chuckled appreciatively at a particular one that showed him obstentatiously hugging the legs of the Knightmare.

Alerted to a glowing link to his other connecting program, Lloyd straightened himself as he put away the pictures, bracing visibly as the image on the screen resolved to show the imposing real live image of the Second Prince of the Holy Britannian Empire, Prince Schneizel el Britannia.

The golden-haired prince, dressed impeccably in flowing royal robes, smiled down at the man in charge of his secret pet project, "Good morning, Lloyd. How are you?"

Lloyd grinned respectively up at his patron as he replied, "All's well, fine and good,

Your Majesty."

"What do you have for me, Lloyd?" the prince asked as he relaxed visibly in his seat.

"Nothing but the best, your Majesty," said the scientist who was barely able to control the excitement in his voice. "The new experimental Frame has been," he made an elegant gesture, "completed! We can expect test drives quite soon, quite soon indeed."

"That is good news!" nodded the prince approvingly. "I knew you were the right man for the job."

"Your Majesty, I am always the right man for the job," Lloyd replied with a bit of a chiding tone. "That is all for my report this month, Your Majesty. I don't want to take up more of your time with boring details." As the Prime Minister of the Empire, the Second Prince was expected to have an unenviable work schedule daily.

The prince nodded again, evidently pleased at this. "It pleases me to see that the Empire is still firmly on the route to progress through the efforts of brilliant men like you. On my end, Lloyd, I am pleased to tell YOU that one of your other ideas has also born fruit."

The scientist made a peculiar quizzical motion with his head.

"I am speaking, of course, of your Hadron proposal that I have taken the liberty of having developed."

This time, Lloyd was indeed pleasantly surprised as he adjusted his glasses - for fear of them falling down in his now heightened emotions. If there was one thing he wasn't always sure of when he submitted some of his proposals to the Second Prince, it was that particular piece, with a wholly imperfect design.

There was something in the Hadron Cannon that needed tweaking, though what that was, Lloyd would not have the time to research, busy as he was with his own project.

"Excellent, Your Majesty? Has it produced a meritorious result too, then?"

For an instant, a frown crossed the Prince's fair features before it quickly disappeared, to be replaced by a reassuring smile. "So far, the Cannon itself has been completed and scheduled to be included in one of your other Knightmare designs, the IFX. However, as you've warned me before in your earlier presentations, they have problems aligning the beams properly, and that is something I hope they can get around to soon."

"The IFX? The one where you said you could test the...?"

In a more serious tone, the prince nodded. "THAT system has yet to be perfected, but so far the ones in charge have reported positive indications of better performance. And when it is, you can be assured that they will try to integrate it first with the IFX."

Lloyd's mind had already started to move, the gears supporting it already churning to measure the implications of what the Prince had said. If THAT could be perfected, then Britannia was indeed on the road to perfection on the field of battle.

And maybe even the Z-01 could...the genius scientist shivered pleasantly at THAT idle thought.

"Before I go, Lloyd, what do you think will the Z-01's common name be?" The prince asked off-handedly. "It's a pain to use its designation number, and something more salient to how it should be would add a, shall we say - tangible - essence to the Frame itself."

Lloyd smiled when he heard this. That was something he'd already decided ever since the day he knew he would be able to finally build the machine of his dreams. In reply, he leaned in closer to the screen, as if he was speaking confidentially to the Prince, and so wanting no other to hear.

"Your Majesty, my creation will be called the Lancelot."

"Ah, quite felicitous."

"Yes, very much so."

* * *

Wincing slightly, Dr. Rouche Aiyme adjusted her right arm so it wouldn't impede on the cast that had been placed on her left as she sat at her designated terminal.

The hangar was bustling even more than usual on this day, partly because she'd ordered it to be so, but also because the Morgana was being refitted with its new experimental core.

The near-death experience she'd suffered thanks to that mad scientist had caused her to decide that the time of simulations was past. No longer would they be restricted with  
theoretical results; they would be getting their answers quickly and efficiently. If it failed, so what? There were a dozen more cores already manufactured and ready for refitting. The Morgana's refitting was a perfect time to do that.

That, and she was taking advantage of Portland's directive that the Morgana would not be sortied for some weeks, following its Devicer's little accident.

Her thoughts turned, briefly, to the pale shivering girl she had seen brought back in to the facility, before turning to dwell on her child that waited silently over her.

* * *

The bed was soft but far from warm, the clothes she wore were adequate but not enough.

It was lonely sitting here in the dark.

The solitude was made even worse with the knowledge that a vast tract of sea separated her from her brother.

At first, Nunnally had panicked when she'd woken up to the long familiar sounds of the facility rumbling all around her. It had taken some time alone (after the doctors had already left) for her to calm down.

_What had happened?_ She had tried to ask. The events of the past night were a clouded haze to her, and the most recent memory she could summon was the livid fear she had felt when she'd assumed the worst for her brother. Beyond that point, she had a blank slate all throughout until she awoke to find herself back in here.

It was a chilling thought, realizing that there were blank slates in her memory, and she prayed that there would be no more of that. There was no telling what she could possibly do to her brother without her knowledge.

Nunnally bore the news that she would be separated for a while from her brother with grace. She supposed that it was her fault after all, so the least she could do was allow herself to be punished.

The room door opened with a hiss. Nunnally stirred as she turned her head to where the noise was.

"Nice to meetcha again, Subject N."

The girl relaxed when she heard that it was just the man from before, the one who had taught her all about the Mind's Eye. This was the one who was also a surrogate for Nunnally, in the days before she and her rother had been reunited.

At the least, this man was kind enough to be understanding of her disability, blind as he said he was.

"I've been assigned to your care, Subject N. In your temporary stay here, I hope we can get along once again."

"I wish for that to be so," mumbled the girl in turn.

With a plunk, she felt the man sit on a chair close to her bedside, his presence much closer now. She heard the sounds of machinery jingling together and felt a familiar sensation as something was placed on her head.

With a hum, the Mind's Eye started, searing her eyes slightly as they projected long-lost images to her brain.

The view opened up to the drab room she was in, with a single chair placed at the foot of the bed and the gray metallic walls. When she looked to her right, she finally saw the man again, fiddling with the portable system that allowed her to see. Nunnally saw that the man's appearance had hardly changed in the long time she'd left his "supervision".

"You know, today I'd wanted to try out new applications for the system, but since I heard that I was to be your guardian for now, I thought I'd spend my day on something else."

After another clunk, the man turned back to her, wearing a visor on his head.

"Like this," she saw the man smile as he showed her what it was. It looked like a domed object, with a single large pad protruding from the side. "This is a new version of the portable Mind's Eye, the first ever to be integrated to a cloth-based material. They call these 'baseball caps' outside, and these work by pulling the cap like so," the man demonstrated as he removed the visor and placed the cap on top of his head.

Nunnally clapped reluctantly, with the man bowing slightly and jovially like a satisfied magician.

After that, the man showed Nunnally the many different types of headgear he'd integrated the Mind's Eye into, some of which included a ski-mask and a quarantine mask.

"And then, we have this," said the man excitedly as he picked up an odd-looking black helmet, which seemed to cover his head completely as he put it on. On a surface was an opaque-looking orb that seemed to cover the entirety of the face. "This is what I temporarily call the Zero mask. (I took it from the shape the mask makes). This is really special, do you know that? Ask me why."

"...why is it special?" asked Nunnally slowly.

"Because!" the man answered enthusiastically, "It is the first portable device that has its own portable camera embedded! It is the ultimate Mind's Eye yet!"

Nunnally was shocked. "So there wouldn't be a need for those small things?"

"Precisely! With this, you can just jam it on and poof! Instant sight! It has its own little power source, lasting for about the time of an entire session...I've always been wanting to develop something like this, and now - !" The man looked like he was on the verge of extreme pleasure as he hugged the mask close. "It's too bad that it's shaped like this, though I've been looking for ways to improve the appearance. And the view!" the man exclaimed as he put it on Nunnally's head. "You must see how the view's different!"

For a while, Nunnally was plunged into darkness again, until the Mind's Eye images returned. She was speechless - it was vastly different from anything she'd seen with the system before. It was like she was actually seeing things in front of her, from her point of view, like a person who could truly see!

"It's..."

"Amazing, I know," nodded the scientist. "Of all of them, this is the one that mimics true sight most."

Nunnally nodded, still speechless, momentarily forgetting her woes for the moment as she panned her view around the room in an almost exact replication of what true sight should be.

* * *

"Will the grumpy person standing in front of the gate please enter the grounds and make his way to the Student Council Club Room? I repeat..."

Milly Ashford's high, clear voice boomed across the Academy grounds, carried through the air by the school's PA system.

To those that were newly enrolled, this was a surprising and mildly unsettling event that had come out of nowhere. To those who knew who the student council president however, like Milly's own grandfather the principal, it was a time to put one's hand to the face and sigh deeply in exasperated understanding.

"Prez..."

"...the grounds - what is it Shirley?" Milly said as she turned away from the microphone to look at the orange-haired girl who was in the camp of the people who did not know this audacious aspect of the president, and who was now squirming visibly. Nearby, Nina was standing uncomfortably - a member of the latter camp - but still visibly anxious nonetheless.

"Do you really have to do that?" asked Shirley. "I mean, we're Lulu's friends right?

Can't we wait for him to-"

"To make up his mind and finally come in to class?" the blonde grinned. "If he decides not to enter, it's the school's responsibility to persuade him otherwise, and if he DOES decide otherwise, then all the more reason for us to know why he's that way now."

"But, doing it this way is-"

Milly made a dismissive sniff. "What's wrong with it? We're the student council, we have the right to commandeer anything that's the school's if it serves the purpose of helping a student. Just as we are attempting to help one particularly truant student right now."

Once again, Milly turned to the microphone and repeated her message for Lelouch Lamperouge, who had been seen standing at the gates of Ashford like some living statue. Rivalz was back in the clubroom, responsible for using the president's binoculars to keep watch on Lelouch. In his right hand he held a cellphone that he'd been ordered to use to contact Milly should the other boy act.

"What's with that guy..." muttered the boy as he kept his eyes glued on the gate. _And why's the president so interested with him?_ It was frustrating this particular guy to see someone he likes worrying about someone else she (might possibly) liked.

"OH!" Rivalz exclaimed as he hit the speed-dial button on the phone.

Back in the sound room, Shirley, who was on the other end of the cellphone, shouted,

"He's moving! In!"

"Tell Rivalz to meet him at the entrance!"

Quickly, the president shut off the machine and dashed for the door, with a panicked Shirley following close behind. Steady Nina took the time to shut off the power in the room before following them out.

* * *

For Milly Ashford, knowing everything there was to know about a person was a secret little goal of hers. There were boundaries, true, but they were always flimsy and quite negotiable.

But sometimes, she would stumble upon something that would be impossible for her to overcome, and one of those things right now was that barrier that sealed her old friend from her.

Staring dully from across the entrance hall, Lelouch was the image of a deathly phantom, perhaps returned from his repose to haunt the school. Those violet eyes that once mesmerized were now cooled - defenseless. It was an unpleasant thing to one who knew what warmth there could be in those eyes.

It didn't take a genius and it didn't take Milly long to figure out what that could possibly mean.

As the other oblivious members of the council expressed their concern over the apparently truant boy, Milly on the other hand stood back and observed the boy's figure.

_Lelouch, what DID happen?_Milly thought silently to herself. Not for the first time did Milly wish that she still had the resources of a noble available to her, so that she could pry into whatever Lelouch was hiding (or where Nunnally, his sister was) Then, she thought, she might have thought of ways to do something about it.

"Y'know, Lelouch, you might be a transfer student, and you MIGHT be a friend of the principal's grandaughter, but you can't go off doing spontaneous things like that! I mean," Rivalz paused for a beat as he cleared his throat, "You can't go off doing something random without me, I mean!"

"Rivalz," Shirley frowned at the other boy, "people have their circumstances, so Lulu must have his, right? Don't go off lecturing him like that."

"I'm not lecturing him...I'm just saying if he did want to pull something like that again, then it'd be better for him to bring me, y'know?" Under his breath he added,

"...and since he is SUCH a close friend of the president, truancies like that..."

Lelouch still had not moved where he was, and it was as if the boy was merely staring off into nothingness. It was like he'd become a statue all over again.

_Let's try that..._

Putting on one of her best smiles, Milly strode confidently across the hall to where Lelouch stood. The others stared quizzically at her as she locked eyes with the living statue.

_Give me the strength, my heart..._ The invitation to the student council had been the first phase. Surrounding him with "friends" in a sense had been an unexpected, but welcome development.

Now she would have to try other things, to chip away at that thick armor that walled off Lelouch from the world.

"Whatever your reasons for being truant, Lelouch," she began, "there is no excuse for it. But your little truancy's just given me an excellent idea. Everyone!" She looked back at the puzzled others. "Why don't we all go out to the city to have fun. Student Council Business, of course."

"Wha-" "Huh?" Their flabbergasted faces were expected, and Nina's particularly was, but she couldn't back down now. She looked back at Lelouch, who seemed to have stirred after she'd made that announcement. "What do you think, Lelouch? Are you up for some karaoke?"

* * *

"What is Milly thinking?" Nina was whispering to herself, and partly to Shirley, who was nearby.

"I can't figure that out," the other girl replied as she straightened her wrinkled jacket that smelled faintly of mothballs.

Nina looked down at her own clothes, hastily put, no, forcibly put on her by the overbearing student council president. After that grand announcement, Milly had ordered the council to head back to the clubroom and change while she went to talk with her grandfather.

The fact that Milly had stuffed clothes that fit their size into a niche in the room was an unsettling thought for Nina.

Lelouch Lamperouge, the boy who Milly seemed to be fixated on, had not said a word as he was allowed to return home and change; as Milly had not prepared clothes for the boys in the clubroom.

"Heeeey~"

The boys had been ordered to wait for them at a certain spot in the entertainment district of the Settlement, and so far, as the girls arrived, only Rivalz was there in his casual clothes.

"That guy, I wonder if he ditched us..." Rivalz said as joined the group.

"Well, we can't start our session without our vice-president, so we'll be waiting here."

The president sat down on a nearby bench that was shaded under the eaves of the store.

"Prez, what's with this activity all of a sudden?" Shirley asked, echoing what the other two members also desired. "Is it all because Lulu was acting strange, or...?"

The blonde-haired president only smiled silently like a cat that had found a content place.

Rivalz scratched his head as he shielded his eyes to look around them, observing the various passersby around them. "If the guy's gonna ditch us today, then he'll have to repay me next time we meet, this heat is boiling my head!"

"Then stop standing out there and get in the shade!" Shirley angrily rebuked from her seat.

"If I don't stand out here, then I wont be able to spot-" The boy stopped. "Wait, that's not...is that?..." The boy's eyes squinted at something in the distance.

"What is it?" The others stood to look in the direction the boy was facing.

"No way..." Shirley recalled that painful incident with the Elevens, and of how an eccentrically dressed young man saved her.

A young man who became her classmate, and co-member in the student council. The young man who was now walking towards them, dressed in the outfit she'd seen him before. And it was...an overwhelming sight.

In the darkness of the back-alley and in the panic she'd felt, she hadn't focused on her savior's clothes that much, only recalling how it was similar to how most Elevens down in the ghettos dressed.

Faded, torn jeans below and a leather jacket on top, with a frightening skull motif at the back. And perched on his head, large headphones and even larger orange shades that seemed to cover most of his face.

_He looks..._

"Pffft..." Milly snorted before bursting into a hearty laugh. The effect was contagious, as Rivalz also doubled up in laughter. Only Nina and Shirley stood transfixed, the orange-haired girl smiling halfway between horror and amusement.

"WHAT in Emperor's name are you wearing, Lelouch?" The president asked as soon as the boy was in earshot.

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Casual clothes, as you've ordered, Miss Ashford. Is there a problem with it?"

"It's not 'a' problem, silly boy, it's a whole truckload of it!" Milly had another fit of giggling as the boy looked down at his clothes.

"'I' don't see a problem, Madam President."

"Well 'I' do, and so does everyone in this particular street," the President gestured around at the passersby, who were all collectively shooting suspicious looks at the ill- dressed boy in their midst. "You look ridiculous, Lelouch. I'm quite serious here. You either have a massive laundry problem or you have a quaint, pathetic wardrobe. He looks ridiculous, am I right, Shirley?"

"Eh?" Shirley cocked her head at the president, before quickly turning her head back to Lelouch, "Er...um...not to the point of ridiculous...maybe unique...?"

After another chuckle, Milly turned the grumbling boy by the shoulders and started marching him down the street. "Looks like we'll be taking a detour to an outfitter before that karaoke gig..."

"I think I know just the place, Madam President!" Rivalz said as he fell in step with her.

"Very well, please lead the way, Rivalz."

After a raucous hour at the place Rivalz recommended, after many changings and heated complaints from Lelouch, the new and improved version of the vice-president emerged from the shop looking very much like any decent Britannian youth. Save for the little wrinkle with the glasses and headphones (a point where Lelouch had been adamant), the boy was no longer sporting the forbidding-looking outfit that had the potential of having him arrested by the Knight-police on suspicion of being an Eleven.

The president looked quite pleased with herself at this metamorphosis, and after the accounts had been settled, she then proceeded to usher the group down to the livelier parts of the district.

* * *

Again, Rivalz lead the way, as apparently the boy was more familiar with the Settlement than anyone in the group, and he was ordered to find a suitable karaoke place.

"I've always wanted to try out karaoke, the previous president kept on saying how it was a good stress reliever for those stressful council days..." Milly said dreamily.

"Huh...I wonder if any of those places are open at this time of day...sure as heck that the ones close to the border'll still be closed..." Rivalz muttered as he looked around him.

With a determined expression on her face, Shirley asked the newly clothed boy in a cheerful but wavering voice, "W-w-what kind of music do you like to l-listen to, Lulu?"

"Music?" Lelouch glanced askance at the girl.

"W-w-well, I'm only asking because you seem to be using those th-things quite often when you're outside..." Shirley pointed at the headphones that covered the boy's head.

After touching the devices for a moment, Lelouch closed his eyes before replying, "Music, is...an encompassing art. It has permeated every aspect of human society ever since-"

"What he's trying to say, Shirley, is that he has no idea what kind of music he likes," Milly said loudly.

"W-what, how dare you say that? I'll have you know my tutors have taught me-" Lelouch paused, a difficult expression crossing his face. Another tense moment occured, which was thankfully saved by Rivalz' cry of joy as he pointed to a nearby establishment.

As it was daytime, there were virtually no other patrons in the place, for it was unusual to be having them at this time in the first place. Their host was quick to point this out, looking especially doubtful when he'd estimated the average age of the group. But a quick flash of the Ashford name had erased all worries, and the Student Council was led to a quaint little room that had just enough seats for all of them.

Filling one side of the room was a large plasma screen, connected all around by intricate machines with loudspeakers. On the center of the room was a low table and on top was a thick book.

Their host had excused himself out of the door after informing them that as of this time, a group meal would be impossible, but drinks would be served. Milly had waved him off as she excitedly grabbed the control. "To your places everyone, we shall be starting this student council activity shortly!"

Everyone sat down on one one of the cushioned chairs, Lelouch taking his place as far away as possible from the machine.

"Since you've guided us all to this point Rivalz, I will appoint you as temporary Head of the Party committee." Milly handed the remote to the boy, who recieved it as if it was a royal decree from the Emperor himself.

"...when did we have a party committee..." Lelouch's tired mutter echoed around the room.

Choosing to ignore that snide comment, Milly took her place on one of the seats as Rivalz fiddled with the remote.

"If I might..." the shy Nina said. "What's karaoke all about?"

"I've heard that it's basically singing along to a song that will be played on screen," replied Milly thoughtfully.

"That means...we'll only be singing?"

"That's the point!" Rivalz chuckled. "It's basically showing off your singing prowess (or lack thereof) to your friends, and generally having a good time! It's one of the only good things we adopted from the Elevens."

"Eleven...?" Nina paled slightly from that name.

"This is stupid..." came Lelouch's mutter again. This time, the boy and the president shared gazes again, and Shirley was helplessly looking from one or the other, again pressured by a hidden tension between the two.

She was saved by a blare of music that came from the machine, which jolted the entire room's attention to it. On the screen now flashed multi-colored objects, while a steady techno beat played in the background.

"I think I have all the settings down..." Rivalz said as he reached for the thick book.

"So, I guess it's time to decide who will be singing and what he or she will sing, I guess..." Rivalz looked doubtfully at a starry-eyed President, along with the others were staring amazingly (or suspiciously, in Lelouch's case) at the bright colors on the screen.

"Can you give us a sample?" Milly tapped the book excitedly.

"What-you mean sing?" Rivalz said uneasily.

"Just something, anything, a song!"

"Alright, alright, we can 'random' this," the boy grinned as he pressed the appropriate button on the remote control. Immediately, the soothing notes of a song replaced the cheerful technobeats as it started playing.

"Oh, this is that famous song..."

"Wow..." Shirley stared at the screen. Nina could not speak anything as she watched the images of a calm sunny sea rolling before her. Little words appeared below, apparently the lyrics to the song that was playing.

Uncertainly, Rivalz held out his hand that held a microphone to the president, who seemed to be mulling over something. After a beat, the President grabbed both the phone, the remote and the book from the boy's hands and started pressing the buttons on the remote randomly.

"This is a boring tune, Party Committee Head. Isn't there, anything-" The screen flashed different scenes now, with different tunes starting and fading to the next as the president cycled through them quickly. "-that's a bit more lively?"

Frowning impatiently, the blonde president looked down at the book and opened it up to the last few pages.

"Oh, Madam President, that's not...really recommended..." Rivalz said anxiously.

"Oh I see..." Milly muttered as she recognized the writings on the pages. "These're Eleven songs, huh? So they do have those in here."

"Yes, and it's mostly reserved for particularly wild parties, when no one cares if you're playing an Eleven tune or not...and I think it doesn't really matter for us here, so-"

"Milly-san..." Nina whispered, her face cramped up for some reason.

"Nina, it's just their songs...Not really Elevens themselves..." Milly was still looking for something amidst all the foreign sounding titles listed there. Rivalz and Shirley looked quizzically from one to the other.

"Just choose one, and get it over with, please..." Lelouch muttered again.

"Glad to see you getting pumped up about this, Lelouch!"

"I'm not-"

"There!" The president suddenly stood up, inputting something into the remote as she took her position in front of the screen. The sleepy tune that had currently been playing was now replaced by a sudden riff of music that, to the experienced Rivalz, clearly presaged a rock song.

"Madam President..." came Rivalz' panicking voice. If the host caught them singing this, then they'd surely be reported, or worse! He was temporarily silenced however, by the President's clear gaze as she shifted confidently into a singing position.

And indeed, the effect of the song and of the president singing it in a cool, composed manner was a definite buffer on the others' protests that were written clearly on their faces.

"_Futari no aida ni wa iroiro atta_..." The President had a high, cheerful singing voice, and it certainly seemed to fit the mood and tone of the song, never mind that she was reading Eleven script off the screen flawlessly.

"_Shumi no chigai ni tomo ni souji shinai._.." Nina looked positively horrified at this sudden display of defiance by Milly, singing an Eleven song fearlessly and without regard for the possibly consequences if she should get caught.

".._.Konna futari waraiatte, Sugoseru hi ga itsuka kuru kana_..." Shirley gazed, mesmerized, at this bizarre sight of the President singing that particular song. For the briefest of moments, she was able to break the spell and glance discreetly at Lelouch, who sat to her left frowning at the screen.

"..._Demo fushigi na hodo kimi wo suki na mama de iru nda yo, Dakara anshin shite hoshii._.." Though he'd been distracted all day, causing him to accede to Milly's outrageous requests, now he was devoting his full attention to her strange figure that was singing an "Eleven" song in this place, at the heart of Britannian domination in the Area. Didn't that woman know the political climate in this place well enough not to do foolish things like these? Lelouch understood the lyrics well enough anyway(as he'd been taught that in the bowels of that place), though its meaning flew way over his head. Who knew this 'karaoke' thing was so painful to the ears?

"..._Ah! Nani ittenda kao ga atsui_!" Milly had never felt this sensation since that little farewell party for the previous president, where she'd felt the heady rush of pleasure when it was finally announced that she would be the next president. Although she wanted to know what Lelouch's reaction to her singing was; she was strangely devoted her all to the song now as she felt slight beads of sweat on her forehead - despite the indoor cooling the room had.

"..._Mou naku no wa gaman suru..._" The images of a heated firefight between a man and a woman played on the wide screen, increasing in intensity as they seemed to head deeper into a city of sorts.

"..._Dakara atashi waratteru yo.._." The two reconcile towards the end, as the last notes of the song reached its fading conclusion. After a slight pause during which Milly was still in her singing position, the screen shifted to display a number accompanied by a blare of trumpets.

"What's that?" Slightly out of breath, Milly asked Rivalz.

"It's a score to gauge how the machine thought of your singing, though I have no idea how-" Rivalz explained, before Milly did a loud whoop and tossed the microphone to Shirley.

"You're next, Shirley! Make us all proud!" Milly prodded breathlessly as she helped the blushing girl up.

"W-why me? I'm not r-really good at s-s-singing..." Shirley gazed pleadingly at the president, who seemed oblivious as she now input something new on the remote.

"Here's something for you...I assume you can read Eleven, right?" Milly asked the girl who made a gesture in a mix of affirmation and denial. "Here we go, student council members! Our next performance...we'll be rotating through all of you, and whoever has the lowest score gets to buy us refreshments!"

"Eh?" The others cried out in unison, obviously disconcerted at the thought of having to sing. Meanwhile, Shirley was now standing in front of the screen, looking oddly determined all of a sudden, although that did not remove the now constant shade of red that stained her face.

The song that the President chose for Shirley was just as upbeat and rambunctious as hers, with lyrics that played across the screen so fast that it caused this orange-haired girl, who had never mastered Eleven language, to render an awkward performance. In the end, after much clapping and cheering, she had a modest score, considerably lower than the president's.

Rivalz, who was ordered next, stood up with a fixed look on his face, as if he would not let his audience down. The song that was chosen was not as fast as the previous two, but they were upbeat nonetheless. However, Rivalz seemed to match Milly's mastery of the Eleven script flashing across the screen that he was able to snag a score that, though lower than the president's was still higher than Shirley's.

The mood had considerably picked up in the little room, despite Lelouch's continued distance; and now Nina's adamant refusal to sing any song, let along an Eleven song. In the end, Milly switched to a familiar Britannian melody that Nina sang with an undertone of gratitude in her voice. This ended up with her being slightly above Shirley score- wise.

And then, there was the grand finale. Lelouch cocked his head to the side after all eyes in the room had turned to him.

"No."

"You have to."

"I only promised to come along, I did not promise to go along with these ridiculous acts."

Milly put her hand to her chin. "Oh, is it because you're afraid you're going to have to buy us all refreshments?"

The violet orbs flashed for a second through the orange lens. "Was that what I thought that was, Milly Ashford?"

Milly had an innocent, quizzical look on her face. "What do you mean by that, Lelouch Lamperouge?"

"Fine," the raven-haired boy stood up from his seat. "But only once."

"A fine idea, my throat is almost parched from all this energy."

Lelouch snorted as he grabbed the microphone from the president, who was scrutinizing him closely. The boy said nothing more as he walked up to his position in front of the screen.

The other three breathed a collective sigh of release after yet another hair-raising moment. For Shirley most of all, aside from the disappointment she felt out of being the lowest-scored was a curiosity for the way the mysterious Lulu would be able to do Milly's demand. She almost expected the boy to have an almost commanding presence while he sang, or some other power.

She would be disappointed yet again, in a more comical fashion. The boy, for all his apparent allure for the girl, had his flaws, one more prominently was an apparent tone deafness. It was either that or, as Milly said in between her chuckles, that this was the first time that Lelouch had sung out loud, and that he was actually reading the lyrics instead of forming a tune.

Either which way, the boy returned to his seat, fuming and red-faced as Milly and the others continued to laugh about his abysmal score on the screen. The president had seemed to forget about the Lelouch's punishment as she'd called for the host to order drinks herself.

Afterwards, Milly caught herself when she glimpsed something that brought a warm smile to her face. Calling out through the animated conversations the others were having,

"Lelouch, are you enjoying yourself?"

The boy glanced back disapprovingly at them. "Most definitely not."

"You seemed to be," Milly nodded approvingly. It seemed as if nothing would wipe that smile from the President's face.

"What would make you think that I would seemingly enjoy this little farce?" the boy said defiantly.

"Your were smiling just now," Milly replied simply.

* * *

Once, when Nunnally had requested it, she was taken by Dr. Duran to the place's exterior, facing the ponderous depths of the Pacific. She had felt the cool breeze waft over her, reminding her of the chill that would sometimes come over Area Eleven.

It also reminded her of the chill of battle, right before the start of a mission - an unwelcome and unsettling thought.

Now, returning after almost a month in solitude from the facility, she felt the opposite atmosphere of a warm breeze waft over her as she was escorted back to the familiar safehouse.

For Nunnally, who could never have born being away from her brother for so long a time, the man had been a reluctant replacement. Tolerating his presence was, to her, something she had to do in order for her not to be overcome by a distressing void of solitude.

And, she'd admitted privately to herself as she lay in the dark room, the man was certainly different from before, no longer forcing her to test the Mind's Eye; and instead enthusiastically sharing things about his work whenever he visited.

He had also been quite supportive all throughout her stay, especially during the first few days when she'd been having recurring vivid nightmares.

To Nunnally, they were the most repulsive images that her mind could have possibly conjured up, of scenes of blood and carnage, of seeing herself floating above it all like a sinister sorceress from a childhood story. Always there was a cloud that continued to smother her, but this time she was free, free to do ANYTHING she could, because she could.

She would then force herself to wake up from this nighttime phantasm, shutting off the image as she might shut off the Mind's Eye, plunging her into the familiar darkness of lucidity.

The man, who was apparently just nearby, would then hold her trembling hand, and as much as she disliked it, she would squeeze as strongly as she could until the trembling stopped.

As the weeks progressed, the nightmares seemed to end, and in the past night, as she was preparing for transport back to the settlement, she'd been visited by a warm, childhood memory of sorts.

"_Nii-sama!_"

Nunnally burst into their room, wearing one of Duran's inventions on her head. She expected to scare her brother momentarily with it, perhaps even catching him in a defensive position of sorts before dissolving into a happy reunion.

Instead, she was greeted by a solid silence, broken by the occasional sounds that filtered in from the open window opposite her.

Disappointed, the girl slowly closed the door behind her and made for the familiar sight of the king-sized bed.

As she looked down on it, she spotted some wrinkled clothes on a pile near the foot of the bed. Wondering if she'd stumbled upon the wrong room, Nunnally quickly scanned its entirety again, and her thought was banished when she saw the black, rectangular familiarity that was her Mind's Eye terminal, waiting patiently for her all this time.

_So this must be nii-sama's.._. Nunnally thought as she bent over to pick up some of the clothes in the pile. Then this meant that these were her brother's clothes, apparently something he'd bought for himself in her absence. They varied from long sweaters to tight shorts, and all varied in their levels of use. One shirt in particular, had had its sleeves torn quite fiercely.

Impulsively, she put her face close to the clothes, taking in the familiar scent of her brother that permeated them.

_Nii-sama..._ Quickly she grabbed the entire pile and hauled them onto the bed.

Breathing deeply, she dived onto the pile, trying to sink herself into the very midst of it.

_Nii-sama...nii-sama..._And now, she was surrounded by her brother's smell, and his apparent warmth. On all sides she felt that he was there, embracing her again. The scents sparked memories, the good and even the bad, and Nunnally accepted them all.

In that moment, Nunnally only had a single wish, that she could stay like this forever, blissfully putting all things aside, that she would never have to be separated again, no matter what..._no matter what..._

_

* * *

_

So where was Lelouch at this time of the day? If one accessed the Mind's Eye and cycled it to the "shopping district", they might seen the multitude of Ashford studentsstrolling around the streets without their uniforms on.

For today was a free day for Ashford, and the students were using it quite productively as the principal had urged.

But that did not mean that all students had their day offs: the student council, in particular was using this opportunity to catch up on some much needed work. And this was why Rivalz was busy stamping on papers when he could have been strolling around like the others, or why Nina was resolutely hammering away on her keyboard. Off to the side, Milly was opening and closing envelopes, dumping the piles of paper on Rivalz.

And that left two other student council members unaccounted for in the clubroom - the bright young Shirley and the enigmatic Lelouch. If one were to again use the Mind's Eye and set it to the shopping district, they might have been able to spot the two, wearing light clothes and walking together in the side street.

Occasionally, they would stop in front of a certain store, and the girl would enter as the boy waited outside. Moments later, the girl would exit, shake her head at the boy, and the would continue walking again, apparently searching for something.

When Milly had requested that someone should buy some emergency supplies, Shirley had been the one chosen. As she was about to exit, the president had stopped her and then ordered Lelouch to accompany her.

This naturally led to another blushing fit from the orange-haired girl and a glare sent the president's way as the boy resentfully stood.

To Shirley, this was the first time that she was ever truly alone with the boy ever since their first meeting back then. She could never seem to approach the boy in all the other times that Lelouch seemed to be alone.

Now she had an excuse, however contrived it seemed to be for her, and they were now, unofficially on a "date". And that thought seemed to be the one that caused her to have a perpetual blush on her face throughout their sojourn through the settlement, never mind that the boy never seemed to show any inclination of engaging in a conversation unless it was for the purpose of the supplies.

_Would people think we were a couple, if they were looking at us?_ Shirley thought hotly. The girl could not bear to dwell on that thought, as it was virtually impossible for that to happen.

Not at this point anyway.

But she was grateful for them not yet finding the right store, as it prolonged the pseudo-date to the girl's mind.

"Shirley." The boy said suddenly. The girl halted at his voice, looking with surprise at the boy.

Lelouch pointed to something across the street. "Would you like something to drink?" Shirley followed where he was pointing to a refreshment stand where an enthusiastic Eleven was barking out his liquid wares.

"Oh, y-yeah, sure!" Shirley stuttered, following the boy as he crossed the street. Well,it was certainly a hot day, so it wasn't weird for him to want to have a little drink after all this time. Inviting her to a drink was normal, just normal.

"No, it's fine, I swiped some of the budget from the council," Lelouch said as he waved off the money that Shirley was about to hand to the seller. "Here," the boy handed the cold plastic glass to her as he started to walk away, sipping his drink. "Replenish your fluids."

Looking to try a different approach, Shirley asked somewhat chidingly, "What did you say about swiping the budget? Aren't you not supposed to do that?" Won't Milly be mad if she found out, was an unspoken question.

The boy chuckled softly into his drink. "Trust me, there are some things that even our wily president doesn't know about. And besides," Lelouch shrugged. "she's bought far more extravagant things during our trips before, and I think a little drink like this won't be that crippling to the infinite budget, right?"

Shirley grinned in response, sipping thoughtfully from the straw. "Though if she were to find out, then..."

"I think I'm more than adequately prepared when that happens. I've proved it once already, haven't I?" Lelouch raised his glass, as if challenging an invisible president.

That was certainly true. During the past week, certain events had transpired which would have, in Milly's own words, been the "end of the student council as we know it".

Fortunately, the hidden genius of the new transfer student, combined with Milly's innate tenacity and the (silent) support by the rest of the council decisively repelled the equestrian club's physical efforts, and a few were even still sporting injuries up till now.

It was at that point that the rest of the council and the rest of the school came to recognize (finally, Milly had pointed out) how dangerous it would be to cross the new transfer student, if the equestrian club's humiliation was any indication. Rivalz had also pointed out how he was even being treated better at school because of the council's newfound reputation.

And here she was, right in the middle of it. The girl couldn't help but giggle at her ludicrous circumstance, which caused her to choke on her drink for a few seconds.

"Are you alright?" Lelouch asked.

"Yeah..." Shirley coughed. "I mean, it was just because I laughed while I was drinking..."

"Were you thinking about something funny?"

"I guess," Shirley smiled bravely at the impassive boy. "You know, come to think of it, we haven't been alone like this since that day-" She froze, her words stopping abruptly.

_Idiot! Idiot! Don't mention that embarassing event, he'll think you're just a-_

The boy raised his eyebrows. "Since what day?"

"Since," _Oh no, think, THINK, silly girl, you had to just go and open your big mouth-_ "that time we met on your first day!" She finally said as she paid close attention to an unlit neon sign in the distance, face so hot she could practically feel its heat.

"If I remember correctly, Rivalz was also there, so-"

"Details, schmetails, who cares about that stuff! Let's go before Milly will scold us for taking too long," she dragged the boy down the street by the hand. She was surprised at this newfound audacity of hers, sort of the way Milly would have dismissed a slight wrinkle that the boy would always find in her plans.

_Is that a good or a bad thing, I wonder?_

Gradually, she'd cooled down, and the mood between them settled once more on urgently finding what Milly had ordered. Some minutes later, they'd finally found what they were looking for, and upon Shirley's insistence, they took an Eleven taxi back to the academy.

"Did you go on a date or something? Why were you taking so long, you two?" Milly almost shouted as soon as they entered the room, Lelouch carrying the packages quite precariously.

"That's crazy, Prez! I-I-I mean, w-w-why would you think that," exclaimed the blushing Shirley.

"A date?" Lelouch scowled as he dropped the packages on an empty chair. "What's a date?"

There was a period of silence as everyone in the room looked at the nonplussed boy.

"I guess there was nothing to worry about," Milly sighed in relief as she went to open up the packages. Rivalz echoed that very same thought to himself.

_So I guess I should be thankful that Lelouch is still as ironically clueless as ever.._. Shirley thought gratefully, her quickened heartbeat slackening.

_I mean, that wasn't even a real date, right? Right? _

_

* * *

_The sun that had so plagued the backs of the cheerful daytime wanderers of the Settlement had already started to set when Lelouch Lamperouge went out moodily from the Ashford grounds.

The president could find nothing to complain about the results of their day-long work as she cheerfully dismissed the student council. But Lelouch did find something to complain about when Milly, in the same tone as when she congratulated them, ordered him to stay back and clean up the mess in the clubroom.

Said mess consisted of piles upon piles of unwanted paper and even more mounds of trash of various materials, from plastic plates to half-eaten breadsticks. The boy visibly glowered at the president who had nodded as if the matter was settled, before stooping to do the ridiculous task.

The orange-haired girl, Shirley, had volunteered to help, but he impatiently waved her off as Milly dragged the startled girl off at the same time.

It took him almost another hour to finish the dratted exercise, and by then, his body was beginning to feel the slight scourge of fatigue. So the boy could not be faulted his foul mood as he started the way home.

The way home was now a familiar sight to the boy, as he wove through crowd-thronged streets and stuffed alleys. The buildings all around towered over the people as usual, fresh from the day use and looking eager for the night life.

The boy saw laughter and enjoyment on every face he glanced at. The joy-drunk fools who did not know that a living bomb was walking in their midst.

As ever, he resented the infuriating masks that were on every person, as if they mocked him and his condition. The boy looked down into his store-bought coat and frowned.

He had become increasingly aware of his surroundings since the day he discovered that he was helpless, paralyzed in inaction where Nunnally was concerned. It was then that he realized just how much the two of them were in the power of the hellish "Project" that they had been thrust into, and how hard it would be for even Lelouch to find a way out.

On that day, the boy's mind had been a haze, unable to think of anything as his body went on auto-mode towards the school. It was then that the boy's overwhelmed spirit seized on the small gap opened for him by Milly. He'd hated the very idea of "having fun" even if it was just for pretend, but that time, Lelouch felt that he really needed it to fill the void that had been left by his sister.

And so it was that he played along with Milly's demands wearing a mask of deceit, never mind that behind his bemused exterior was a fountain of murderous rage that would have ended up with him killing off the rest of the student council.

The boy soon found out that "having fun" in the day was the only thing keeping his spirits up in light of the awful reality facing him whenever he went home.

_Nunnally, where are you still?_ The older sibling had that constant thought, a hungering concern for his lost sister. He couldn't bear it - just the sudden sight of her would release all the burdens on his head, leading him to unparalleled glee at the unseen reunion. It was her face that he would always see in his waking and unwaking mind.

But there was nothing yet, no sign of her lovely familiar face, and so he quailed at the prospect of another night spent alone in the safehouse. _Please..._

"Something on your mind, boy?"

The boy froze where he stood, heart stopping in a single moment as he sensed HIS eyes boring into his body like loathful insects.

**Lub-dub.**

He knew that hateful voice, the one that could only belong to that figure, to that towering beast that had deprived him and Nunnally of everything. The mere thought of that man and his ever-taunting figure made his blood boil.

**Lub-dub.**

As he felt his own pulse beat loudly in his ears, Lelouch turned slowly from his path to face the source of the voice.

**Lub.**

There, he beheld the beast, crouched before a table, the lengthening shadows of the kiosks surrounding him shrouding most of his massive frame.

**Dub.**

With a great mustering of strength, Lelouch willed himself to stare into the man's shadowed face, which he saw was emitting puffs of gray smoke like some dragon brooding in its cave.

"I asked you a question, boy." The last word oozed out of the man's mouth, striking the boy with all its hated familiarity.

Something in him rose to attempt to defy the figure before him, to lash out whatever the consequence. But something else held back that other one, instead making the boy reply through narrowed mouth, "I have nothing on my mind."

After a visible puff of smoke, the figure breathed out, "Are you sure about that? It certainly seemed to look like you were. In fact, I have seen you look like that a lot. Every day - since that day."

The boy said nothing, merely concentrating all his attention on the figure and letting the now increasing crowd bump and jostle into him standing in the middle of the street.

The figure tilted its head. "You have been missing Subject N. for the past three weeks." It was a statement of fact, not an inquiry.

"I am concerned for Subject N., and for the continued progress of our missions." The last part was a prepared afterthought, and Lelouch saw the figure's eyes twinkle in bemusement.

"Your enthusiasm for the mission is commendable," the figure nodded. "and it seems that it will be-or has already been rewarded, as Subject N. has been waiting for your arrival in the safehouse for some time now."

_Nunnally? She has been released? She's there! _ The boy's thoughts turned swiftly from the danger in front of him to the joyous realization of the reunion. It almost made him turn from the man and into the direction of their safehouse, which now seemed an attractive beacon for the boy.

"So that place seems more like heaven now, boy? When, in any other time over the past weeks, you would have dreaded coming back there?" The boy froze, ecstatic thoughts suspended in a myriad of questions.

_What is that man implying?_

"Ashford. Quite a familiar name. Familiar to me, of course. I've always been keeping watch on any potential additions to the gutter. A shame they didn't in the end - a lot of my old friends would've liked them reaching that point." The figure shook its massive head as if shaking off a stray thought. "Of course, being fallen nobility doesn't really change the inherent nobility in you. Most of the time anyway, and it certainly wasn't the case here."

The figure tapped its finger on the table thoughtfully as it produced a little square photograph from its coat and held it up in the dimming light. Lelouch's eyes narrowed when he saw what was on it.

"Did they really think they could use their old Court charades in here? Against me? They made it too obvious when they started to sniff around for something about you. Just the first inquiring look, and their pet was already under our power. After extracting what little he knew, I gave orders and..." The figure shrugged as it crumpled the photograph into a pulp.

Slowly, it dawned on the boy where the figure's rambling would lead. And that was-

"It was then that I started to wonder: what was it that made the two of you suddenly so interesting for the Ashford? Why did they have to use subterfuge to find out everything there was to know about you? And it was after a sudden flash that connected all the dots, that I figured it out. You know the feeling, I think you've had those kinds of moments before? It made sense - of course!" The man rumbled as he breathed another great cloud.

"It is the same reason that you visited the Ashfords a while back. There is a connection, between you and the Ashford heiress, is there not?" The figure's eyes stared in affirmation, although Lelouch felt that the man already knew the answer.

"And that connection is what keeps you leashed to her, what makes you do the things we see you doing! I see your eyes waver, I am right. I know everything - I have even seen a few of your 'activities' myself. And you continued to do them, despite your given personality. And it is because of that connection.

"The loss of their pet was just a little warning from me, boy. Its feeble attempts weren't even supposed to draw my attention, and yet it did. And now, they know how dangerous it is for them to pry further. I only stopped it at that, because I knew that they couldn't threaten me or my Project with that pathetic display of subterfuge.

"Everyday I tirelessly work to ensure the secrecy of this Project. And I will work just as ceaselessly to silence anything that might threaten it. That includes snuffing out those puny lives that you've taken all this time to make connections with."

"You b-" The boy stopped himself, biting down on his quivering jaw as he felt a wringing rage take hold of him. They would stop at nothing. _Why would they stop at nothing?_

"It amused me so, very much as I was watching you amidst all their...'cheerful' faces. That you would bravely put up a front for them - when you have been trained not to feel such things. Again, I commend your vast enthusiasm for this mission that makes you put on such a convincing mask."

He'd had no attachments to the people he'd "befriended" on the other side. _Yet why?..._

"Although I have to wonder...you're practically surrounded by three budding flowers, so it wouldn't be completely out of line for you, as a growing man, to be interested only for 'that'. Well if you are, don't be forming anymore attachments than you can handle; it would be a real shame for little Miss Ashford or one of the other two to be found in a sewer grate somewhere, like..."

A numbing pain gripped his neck, and the boy seemed to see the figure's face in all its clarity, its malice. He shivered in spite of himself as he watched the monster casually flick its cigar onto the ashtray - exhaling one final, rumbling puff.

"Remember boy, the two of you belong on this side, MY side of the gutter. There is no looking up from the shade for you. You do not belong there, to their bright little world.

You are weapons, MY weapons, forged to my specifications. You are bound here, for as long as I will it. Remember that.

"I suppose I shall dismiss you for now boy, as it seems that you're raring to go and see the other Subject again. Tomorrow, I will have new assignments sent over, here's hoping your inactivity hasn't dulled your blades, it would be a shame..."

**_Lub. Dub._**

**_

* * *

_**  
Nunnally could sense the day end, hearing the familiar sounds of the night life starting up just beyond the window. She'd just woken up about an hour earlier, buried under a pile of her brother's clothes.

Thinking that such a strange sight would only make Lelouch raise an unseen eyebrow, the girl had hurriedly arranged it all, folding up the fabric so the entirety could be placed into one neat column.

Then she'd waited, and waited and waited some more - lying down and basking on the bed.

She'd thought of preparing a sort of surprise for her brother, just like the one she'd planned for upon her earlier arrival, but thought that just a simple reunion would be enough. It had been too long after all.

Still, why was Lelouch taking so long to go home? She remembered this time as the usual time when he'd return from the Academy, barring any unusual days when the mission would intrude.

She so wanted to touch his face, feel the familiar contours, as she was imagining it in her head now, a bright image that had been granted by the Mind's Eye...

To reach out and with her arms and feel his warmth right there, just the same as ever...She didn't allow any other unpleasant thoughts coming in, no dark presentiments of what might have happened - explaining why he still wasn't here...

Quite suddenly, she heard it. The sounds of her brother's shoes, shuffling in the corridor just outside. Her heart seemed to stop in her chest as she braced, prepared to welcome her brother with a cheerful greeting as he approached. A warm flush seemed to enter her face as she listened closely to the ever-approaching sounds of his feet...

_The door, so rudimentary a security option, finally opens on its antidiluvian hinges, and she is there.._.

Wanting it to be as natural as possible, she'd forgone the Mind's Eye, instead turning her head and reaching out her hands as wide as possible, exclaiming in a joyous tone - as she'd been imagining in her head for the past hours...

_Mind's Eye auxiliary system for Subject not initialized, condition D reached, eliminating and excluding other scenarios of resistance, quick scan reveals no other change in the domicile, but proceed with caution nonetheless..._

"_Nii-sama! _Welcome back!" She practically shouted, not minding that the door was still open, and that the other possible tenants might have heard; because he was there, her brother was finally _there_, in front of her...

_She is there, at last, his most precious treasure, carved and shaped by an unholy hand into an instrument of wrath. She is his only means of existence; as he is, possibly, to her.._.

The door was closed, and she felt his presence come near; but so far, Lelouch had yet to respond to her call as she sat on top of the bed. She felt something...wrong, and as she was about to...

_But first, to confirm that existence, to affirm that this creature before him was Nunnally Lamperouge, formerly Britannia, now a pawn in this hideous program..._

...call out, she was suddenly swept into his embrace. She smiled as a tear escaped from her eye, rejoicing in his familiar warmth, so reassuring, protective...She now felt that she was finally home..._Nii-sama._..

_So it has been confirmed that this was she. She, I should protect. She, I should've __protected. She, I could've..._

Quite unsurprisingly, she felt the wetness on her head, signalling to the girl what her brother was feeling in this moment. It was understandable, as it had been a long, long time; and she felt no harm in letting her own streams flow.

_Protect, yes I have to - protect...The only way...to protect - what is it? I am hers and she is mine...Is she mine? No, she is not mine, she went away so easily, like a blade of grass cut by the wind...So I have to make her mine...My own...Nunnally is..._

Suddenly, she felt herself being pushed down by the shoulders. The girl was puzzled by this action, and also as she felt Lelouch's hot breath tickle her neck. Then she felt his kiss.

Many times before, the two had shared a kiss, and it had mostly been a slight peck on the forehead or on the cheek. But not the lips. Never the lips, unlike what Lelouch was doing right now.

"_Nii-sama?_" she whispered as soon as the connection was broken. Her fingers sought his face, seeking an answer from his silent form, just as she felt his breath on her neck once more.

His caresses became even more violent, tracing paths along her body that sent unpleasant shivers down her spine. A sudden draft on her chest signalled to her that Lelouch had opened the front of her clothing, to what purpose the girl could not fathom.

* * *

What use was his "brilliant" mind if he did not use it for the sake of a cause? He recalled someone asking him that question, but the boy did not know what answer he'd given.

Many times before he had been praised as a budding genius, one who had the potential to be great. And he did not disappoint: he'd used his gray mass effectively and efficiently, from the light-hearted tutoring at the Aries to his present misery.

The boy had a cause - his will to live, and that was his sister, the only family he had left in the world. And he'd sworn on the day he'd witnessed her weak, blinded form at the hospital a week after the accident and on the day he'd renounced his royal heritage, that he would be forever responsible for Nunnally's well-being for the rest of his life.

But not a year had passed then and he'd already failed, his inability to use that "brain" of his landing them in this hell. Many times over the years he'd watched each failure at his sworn duty carve deep wounds into his ego, into his soul.

And the last, great failure had now led him to ensnare others who weren't supposed to be involved in the first place.

_No_, he'd thought to himself as he'd stormed away from the presence of that brooding monster. T_here was no connection between him and Milly Ashford, nor Shirley, Rivalz or Nina...none at all!_

But the monster had not seen it that way, and indeed the boy's bumbling actions were highly indicative of a connection 's spirit, so buoyed in that brief instant when he'd been told that Nunnally had been returned, were now weighed down by the thought of his failure; and he imagined persistent shades of torment following him wherever he went.

To Lelouch, the world itself seemed to have taunted him personally, towering down over him with the force of cruelty, much like the two monsters in his life had done.

And the only hope lay in his light, Nunnally, the only one in the world who could possibly share in his anguish and grief.

For all his purported "genius", his brain was nothing more than the primitive, bestial apparatus that it essentially was.

It was why, when he'd returned at last to their mutual room, the one overriding instinct pulsating from within was the urge to be one with his sister by any means, to be able to unite in body and mind at last and prevent any more grief from coming to pass.

_Surely that was what she wished too right?_

An INSIGNIFICANT part of him thought still rationally, screamed at him from the depths to cease his foolishness, to return to pale rationality. It was so INSIGNIFICANT a voice, like a bothersome fly that never seemed to stop.

For a BIGGER part of him knew that he would get MUCH pleasure from this act of union, after everything was said and done. It was much easier to give in to what MOST of your brain was telling you to do, GENIUS that it was.

It was the part that ignored Nunnally's many questions as he methodically stripped and sometimes ripped her clothing that got in the way, eager to get at what was hidden away like a beast who was only interested in the inner part of the fruit. And indeed, like a beast, he enjoyed reaching the SWEET, sweet core to the utmost, which strangely

"Nii- that - tickles - hyah! Wh-wh-wh-what are you trying t-t-to do?"

made him satisfied

It seemed like an eternity later, as he watched Nunnally's pale body glow with an unearthly sheen in the faint moonlight, that he would marvel at the precipice that he was about to jump over.

By crossing this he would - _So why was Nunnally gasping, like she was out of breath_ - finally be able to achieve the utmost joy, with this - _Face scrounged up in an expression of pain and something else_ - THEY would finally be, one.

Ah, but INSIGNFICANTLY he came again demanding a stop to everything a stop from the line crossing and reaching the point of nay return,

As Lelouch watched, poised over the brink, he felt her white, moist fingers brush his hair softly as Nunnally, his sister said,

**_"I love you, my beloved Lelouch, most beloved brother..."_**

A freezing wind seemed to wash over his naked body, like an unwelcome draft if the window had been opened, and he felt it crush his heart like so many frigid hands.

"No...Nunnally...what- what was I doing?"

_"Nii-sama?"_

"I- no, what is-" He'd stumbled out of the bed, clutching the sheets close to his body as he crawled away - away from the light streaming through the windows and into the shadowed corners.

"...this is- I'm...I was- I don't-" The boy babbled senselessly like a madman, glancing fearfully at Nunnally's naked form, framed by the moonlight behind her.

"even if, I wanted...ridiculous...I was-only...NO!"

An impulse seized him suddenly, forcing him to vomit uncontrollably onto the sheet, heedless of Nunnally's panicked cries.

Wretched fluid poured recklessly from every orifice on his face as he dug his fingernails deeply into his sides, drawing blood.

"But, no...why? WHY? No...how could I have - NO! **NO!**"

* * *

Dear Diary,  
I'm shocked! So many things happened today that I can't seem to write about as well as I wrote in the journal before! I know it's usual to begin at the start of the day right? But I really have to write the last part down fast so I don't forget, because it's the most bizzare event I have encountered yet!

Okay, so this happened right at the end of the day, after Madam Prez pushed me out of the school. I was so confused about what happened during the day that I couldn't even find the motive to go straight home, so I just walked around the city. I think I was sorta out of my mind back there, and I'm glad that didn't leave me right at the godawful border. Again.

I was just about to leave when I spotted Lulu, Mr. Enigma himself, standing in place in front of a coffee shop. He was sporting his trademark "Club Slayer" scowl and staring at something inside the shop. At first, I wanted to give him a big shock by surprising him, but I stopped when he started talking! So I hid at a magazine shop that was just across, and like some second-rate spy from a movie, I watched Lulu talk with some guy that I couldn't see from where I am at first.

So I watched Lulu's reactions, and I'm telling you, I couldn't make heads or tails of it! I mean, I've seen all sorts of expressions his face would have, but the things I saw there, I thought I was going to faint from the sheer...pressure. It was like he was a completely different person!

And then in a blink, Lulu's gone and I'm left holding a racy magazine. I was so shocked that I immediately left the store, and then BAM, I knock into this guy and I'm blown away by the sheer force of it. When I looked up, there was this scary-looking fellow standing over me, and I swear, I think he was smiling at me, I wasn't sure, but the way he seemed to tower over me made the atmosphere drop a centigrade or two (I blame Nina for that saying)

Brr...I still feel them now as I recall him. I've met my share of fat guys, and he sure didn't fit the jovial person you usually typed a fat guy as. And those creepy looking eyes too...And yeah, I really think he was smiling at me, but I really can't be sure since I got the heck away after that and straight here. I swear, there are things...

...There are many things I wanna ask Lelouch. Yes, I wrote his name like that. It rolls out of my tongue like so...and it's nice. Anyway, that guy has a lot of unanswered questions, and I have a feeling Madam President has a few answers. But I'm sure not gonna ask her, I have to get those right from the horse's mouth! Go, me!


	20. SubPhase 20: Cold is the Night

"By your leave, Prince Schneizel," said the corpulent man on the screen.

"I shall be looking forward to further developments, Ambassador," the Second Prince of Britannia nodded as he made a motion of dismissal.

The dimmed lights in the room flared up, illuminating another man, who was as impeccably dressed as the Prince, standing in crisp attention behind the Prince's chair.

The fair-faced man took the opportunity to offer the Prince some tea, which the latter gladly accepted with a nod. "If I may be so brutally honest, Your Majesty," the man said courteously, "wasn't that a bit too harsh on the old ambassador? You had known full well that he could not be trusted with even this year's derby hopefuls."

"I am aware that his trustworthiness was in question; rather, it was his incompetence that marred my pleasant disposition," the Prince replied neutrally.

"Of course, you, as the paragon of competence in Britannia and possibly the entire known and unknown world, take offense to this lack which you see in others."

"You know me too well, Kanon. I believe I shall postpone hearing Clovis' message for later."

After a brief period of silence, the Prince put down his empty cup and leaned back into his chair. Kanon knew that the Prince liked to use this brief periods of inactivity to contemplate (sometimes aloud, with him) and nothing more.

"What do you think, Kanon? About the state of the world as it is now? As our mild- mannered ambassador has told us, we cannot 'ask for any more peace' than that which we have right now."

"That is merely an illusion of a desk-loving bureaucrat, sire," Kanon scoffed. "The world is as it is through the actions of Britannia, through our attempts to enforce the will of the Crown. Time and again, we have proved - "

"'That we dictate the course of history, and the world' - yes, quite lovely repeat of our historians' propaganda." The Prince chuckled, steepling his fingers before him in thought. "Many moving pieces, Kanon, some obvious to even the eyes of our 'keen' ambassador. Some other pieces lurking, waiting patiently for the chance to strike. Britannia holds dominance, but who can say what the next turn shall bring?"

"Since you shall be there, and in every turn afterwards, sir, I shall ever be at your command."

"That means a lot to me, Kanon," the Prince nodded in appreciation, "and I patiently await fate's next move."

* * *

The distant boom of aircraft launching shook the curly-haired boy awake. Suzaku looked around him and saw the bare few Elevens who'd made it through the Honorary Britannian by Conscription program sleeping just as he'd been inside the cramped quarters of a transport vehicle.

Once, there'd been a hundred proud hopefuls, each aiming to use the skills that could've gone to preserving their nation's dignity for the benefit of the Britannian Throne.

A few grueling years later had reduced that spare hundred to fifty, and now there was a trickle half-dozen left, and the Britannians were satisfied with just that.

Of course, the many youths who had been eliminated from the roster had been dismissed after they couldn't seem to bear the backbreaking and sometimes humiliating exercises they were required to put to, not to mention the many kinds of abuse that their instructors would put them through.

Some cadets mysteriously disappeared for speaking up about it.

Suzaku Kururugi watched it all unfold before his eyes, but he chose to wait. He'd decided that the evils of the men would bite them back sooner, if not later, and it wouldn't do any good to jeopardize his long term goal now.

Not when he was one step closer to it.

"Naive" had been one of the things his crewmates had said of it, in the times when he'd relented and opened up about his dream. He wouldn't be seeing those people anymore, as they'd been one of the people whose bodies had been rendered completely useless from the exercises. He'd had the opportunity to prevent that from happening, but he hadn't the motivation to try hard.

He was old enough to know that it wasn't a realistic dream, but that wouldn't stop this determined Honorary Britannian.

Not when there was a nation at stake, and not when there might be other people who shared that exact same dream.

* * *

Summer sessions with the royal tutors had ended quite favorably for Third Princess of the Imperial Family, Euphemia li Britannia, as the tutors themselves reported to her older sister. Though there had been some wrinkles with regards to some subjects, like Britannian history, which the princess didn't seem keen on studying closely.

Truth be told, they'd written to the Second Princess, there were a touch of other stuff that they'd wanted to teach the girl, as Cornelia herself had prescribed, but it seemed that Euphemia had closeted herself off in the long abandoned Aries Palace again, refusing any visitations on threats of vile 'dismemberment'.

Regretfully, the tutors had concluded, the only way for their esteemed selves to continue their august work would be if Cornelia herself would come and persuade Euphemia personally, a fact which the tutors urged would be most favorable for the Third Princess's sake.

Inside the aforementioned Aries Palace were a maze of gardens that the late Imperial consort Marianne had loved, and were still being maintained by orders of the Second Princess.

At least, they had seemed like mazes in the past, when they'd been much smaller, Euphemia thought as she sat on a time-worn but still pristine stone bench.

Anytime that the pinkette princess had felt nostalgic, Euphemia would cease her current actions and order her driver to take her straight to the Aries Palace, so she could spend a few hours of peace in the multicolored garden.

This particular time, Euphemia had felt an emotion akin to melancholy when her tutors had breached the subject of modern history, especially on the part of the recent inclusion of Area Eleven, an event which had happened in her childhood.

For Euphemia, speaking, listening or even thinking of that time was a taboo unto itself, as she'd lost more than just tears during that time.

Not one to immerse herself fully in the gloom, Euphemia instead conjured up happier images of her pleasant time here long ago, running around without a care in the world through the myriad pathways within the gardens.

She saw peaceful faces, unaware of the grief that would befall them and living solely in the innocent present.

It hurt inside so much to consider that unjust, unhappy thought, for here she was surviving them into an even more uncertain world.

Euphemia li Britannia reassured herself with the fact that, as she was finally of the right age to exert some change, she would have little difficulties in preventing any more similar events from happening again.

_Through this, I can finally put your spirits to rest, Nunnally, Lelouch.._.

She only hoped no shallow-minded people would selfishly disrupt that for which she hoped.

* * *

"You're late, Tamaki." The leader of the rebel cell, Kaname Ohgi, muttered tiredly as his last member finally came in through the entrance to their secret base.

"I couldn't help it man, the new foreman's really strict with time tables and all that crap. And you know that we really need even that little amount we're getting for our gigs, and..."

"These aren't gigs, Tamaki."

"Potato, potato - whatever man, just go on with the meeting."

"Alright," the man known as Ohgi cleared his throat and spread the customary map of the Tokyo area in the center of the room. "As you all may have already heard in some way or another, the number of cells currently operating within the area has decreased. It seems that most of the other groups have either pulled back to the wider countryside-("Cowards," muttered Tamaki) or have been eliminated by the Britannian's counter-groups.

"Because of that, the resistance within range of the Settlement has slackened, but it's also given us a slight advantage." Ohgi traced the wide circles that he'd drawn earlier on the map, staring at everyone else in the room. "Our operating space has widened considerably."

"And how is that a good thing?" demanded the hothead.

With a placating gesture, Ohgi replied, "It means that we can still keep up the illusion of numerical superiority, even as we can easily dissolve into the slums should the situation call for it.

"Now, I know that some, if not all of you are still feeling a bit down since that last - mission," Ohgi did not say out loud what that had really been, a _bust_, "but now I have something new, something a bit more suitable for the scope of our manpower."

Tamaki and the others shifted in their places, the atmosphere in the room tightening like a bowstring. Ohgi coughed to clear his throat and adjusted his seating pose as he too shifted in place.

"The plan involves-"

"Hold on a sec," the red-haired man interrupted. As all strained eyes turned to him, he asked, "Where's Kallen? I think she needs to get in on this, too."

"I didn't call her, Tamaki," Ohgi replied in a strained voice.

"Why the hell not? She's as much a part of this rebellion as you now! Plus, she's a hell of a better driver than me, or Yoshida or Nagata-"

"Hey-"

"And," Tamaki continued over the others' protests, "she's said plenty of times that she's willing to fight with us! What's wrong with giving her a chance to continue Naoto's dream?"

The rest of the group grimaced uncomfortably at the mention of that name, now two years departed, he who had started up this little cell in the first place. Ohgi especially pursed his lips, as if mulling over what Tamaki had said.

"But she's still too young..."

"Aw man, again with that 'too young' crap! She's old enough to make her own decisions, and Naoto kept on saying that only you can decide what's best for yourself, so if Kallen knows that she wants that, then why stop her?"

"But she's not old enough, Tamaki. And I'm not sure that's what Naoto would've wanted for her. The bloodied life of a rebel certainly doesn't fit her..." Ohgi said, his eyes furrowed in deep introspection.

Tamaki snorted, "If you'd told her about this meeting, you know she'd have words for you about that subject..."

After a moment of tense silence within the group, Ohgi finally cleared his throat. "Whether or not Kallen comes to this mission is not an important factor in this new mission. In fact, it might be very dangerous for all of us to participate, since the object in question is, shall we say, very much destructive.

"Though I am sure," Ohgi said in a loud voice as the others started to protest over the implication of being sat out, "that everyone's skills would be essential..."

"Even Kallen's?" Tamaki interjected yet again.

Ohgi breathed a final sigh as he locked his tired eyes with the red-head's own briefly. "The plan involves an object, an experimental device that's reported to be so potent, that Britannia-

* * *

"...plan to move it as soon as we've had confirmation from Bartley- did you see that?" The bespectacled man gestured to his similarly white robed companion to something on the screen between them.

"See what?"

"There was a pulse...on the energy readings...seemed quite high on the chart there..." The first one wondered, pointing at the meters on the screen.

"That's impossible," the other scientist concluded. "It's probably just a random spike. If it happens again, I'll be sure to analyze it."

**_Deep in her prison, she waited, as the ominous winged symbol on her forehead dimmed __from its recent outburst. She waited..._**

**_

* * *

_**"I was waiting for a long time for her damn reports! Where is that dratted woman?" The uniformed man barked into his phone as he regarded an open file folder in front of him, on which was displayed the picture of a blonde-haired woman smiling brightly at the camera, next to her name in blocked letters - Solaris.

* * *

"And you haven't heard or seen anything at all?" Prez said loudly, carrying her voice from halfway across the room to where the speaker phone was placed on the long wooden table.

The boy speaking at the other side of the connection, Rivalz sighed audibly through the speakers and replied, "Nope, I've been to most of the gambling halls, to the quieter parts of the district, and he wasn't there, Madam Prez. I'm trying some of the less reputable of the gambling halls - I had a thought that he'd probably wanted to try non-noble opponents for a challenge, so I'll be looking there too."

"Well good luck, and call me when you have something."

"Will do, Madam Prez, and I must say I have to congratulate you on-"

Bleep. The blonde-haired president of the Ashford Academy student council sighed into her palms. That was probably her tenth sigh since the day had started.

She met the eyes of another member of the student council, the orangette Shirley, who had turned off the speaker phone and who had been sitting at the table. A vaguely exasperated look of understanding briefly crossed between the two girls.

Another girl, a bespectacled petite one who was sitting just behind Shirley and working on a computer terminal, then said, "Maybe the two of them are off taking a stroll again somewhere near the Bay..."

"Well, we certainly can't discount that possibility. Or that he's probably caught up in some bad business again. Or that he's mingling with the Elevens again, probably being hooked up with a prostitute-"

"Madam President!" Shirley, cheeks flushed had literally howled at the last part, making the other two girls jump in surprise. "Um...I mean, Lulu wouldn't dare do those kinds of things, right? Not when Nunna-chan's still, um-"

"Well, you've got a point there..."

"-and like, I know him and Rivalz are always skipping classes and going off to do shady stuff, but he's really responsible when it comes down to it, I mean just yesterday he gave all those science club guys a real scare."

Yesterday had indeed been an interesting time for the student council as, yet again, another one of the clubs who'd protested their reduced budgets had taken the vice-president's sister hostage in the science lab. That semi-serious action would have necessitated the intervention of the Academy's own security, but Lelouch Lamperouge had taken the initiative in vindictively cracking open, hunting down and punishing the offenders.

Nunnally had said that it had been the most frightening beat-up she had heard yet.

At the thought of that little invalid girl, Milly mood softened. It seemed like only yesterday that she'd been reunited with another one of her childhood friends, at first secretely together with her grandfather, and then publicly with a made-up alibi to the rest of the world. Now Nunnally was currently enrolled as a middle-school student in the Academy, working her way through a special course for one such as her.

Through the months that intervened, Milly never questioned Nunnally nor Lelouch about what kind of strange circumstance called for their devotion to being as secretive as possible with their private affairs. Lelouch would call their sudden absences as the need for Nunnally to see the doctor for medical attention, and Milly left it at that. And Milly never complained too, about Lelouch's adamant refusal to tell her or the rest of their acquaintances where they lived, privately telling the Ashford himself that to pry more would not be a good idea.

At the very least, Milly had decided, the girl had definitely warmed up to her friends in the student council, and vice versa. Rivalz even once mentioned that it was really hard to accept how one fair, sweet flower could possibly be related to the brooding, handsome boy who was always at his sister's side like an overprotective mother. Little Nunnally was named the new mascot of the student council. She was also considered as the "Untouchable": for one to get closer to the girl, one had to contend with the infamous brother, as the science club had found at the cost of their bruised prides.

It seemed to the heir of the Ashford legacy that even as the time since their reunion had lengthened, there were still as many unanswered questions in her mind as the time Lelouch had marched fiercely through that corridor, a very long time ago.

And that did not sit well with the young Ashford.

* * *

The old man coughed fiercely, another one of his fits, after another biting breeze wafted at him from the sea. Taking another swig from the bottle next to him, he adjusted the fishing line between his legs.

After wiping his moist lips with the back of his hand, he glanced once again to his immediate right where, just a few rocks down sat another person whose face was hidden by a billowing cloak.

The fishing spot was small, only a few rocks that surrounded a deep area of water that was also teeming with many small fish. To reach it, one had to find the secret path through a treacherous rocky climb just behind, and the old man was confident that he'd been the only one to discover it. He'd found this fishing spot a long time ago, and since then it had been his place of refuge and contemplation whenever things would just get a little too much in his life.

Over the years, there had been occasions when other people would intrude into this place, such as that time long ago when a war of sorts had broken out and a group of soldiers on a boat had hailed the man, saluting him at his spot for no apparent reason.

So it wasn't particularly surprising that one day, a cloaked stranger who was quite amicable under the hood would find his way to the spot - doing nothing but sit on the rocks and face the sea.

All throughout the day, he'd exchanged a few words with the stranger, sometimes out of courtesy in offering lunch, then in some other pleasantries that involved the weather or the sea. Most of the time though, was spent in a calm silence - hearing the waves crash lazily on the rocks and the whistling sounds of the wind. He had a right to be slightly uneasy as he had yet to be sure that that was really an Eleven under the hood, and not some Britannian whacko.

Another great thing about the spot was the view it offered of the sinking sun. As soon as he'd see that beautiful sight of the round, orange orb disappearing bit by bit into the shaded horizon, he would start packing up his things and leave.

"Leaving already?"

The stranger's muffled voice startled the old man a bit, who shrugged in reply, "Any other time, I'd really stay it out till early night, on hauls like this." He pointed to the scant number of fish piled inside the basket. "But the cold air's not good for these joints, like the doctor said, and I can't tolerate the night breezes that well. Plus, I got grandkids waiting for another bedtime story from this old guy. So, I got to pitch in early. I have to say, it's been a pleasure sitting here with you, for what it's worth."

The stranger replied in a much clearer voice, one which he finally concluded to be that of a man's, "Shame. Could've seen something interesting, if you'd stayed. Once in a lifetime. But man has his own time. Good night, old man."

Puzzled and a little unnerved by the man's disjointed speech, he gathered up his tools, said his brief goodbyeand left for the secret path a little too hurriedly. His last view of the stranger before the trees blocked his view was of him finally standing, covering his mouth with his right hand.

"Strange day..." the old man muttered.

Suddenly, he felt a tremor in the ground under him. Looking down at the path beneath his feet, he saw the bigger rocks visibly shake and crack in places, and smaller ones roll along the ground, taken by the rhythm. "Earthquake?" The old man muttered. He decided that crossing the path would be dangerous if the tremors continued, and that they did. What was strange was, some of the thunderous noise he'd heard seemed to be coming in the direction of his spot.

After a quick thought, he made his way back through the canopy of shivering trees, heading back for the spot. The constant rumbling never seemed to stop, causing him to brace himself on a trunk every other step.

When he finally heard the sounds of the crashing sea, he dropped his tools quietly on the ground and made his way stealthily through the last series of foliage before the spot. It was at this time that the noise of the rumbling seemed to come closer and closer, and the old man imagined that it really was heading for the spot. If so, that queer stranger might be in danger of something unknown.

The noise now closer, was accompanied by the distant sounds of trees falling down, and to this old man, it was indeed a frightening thought to consider that something was causing the disturbance. Crouched beside a strong-looking tree, the old man prayed that it was something man-made. The persistent tremors seemed to toll at his heart like a bell.

Like the roar of a terrible stormy night, the noise seemed to grow louder and louder, peaking to an unseen climax. The old man waited, torn between the desire to flee and his own overwhelming curiosity.

Immediately, the old man felt, instinctively at that, a definite presence that was behind the aweful noise grow and grow in his imagination. The tremors had increased in intensity, causing him to feel his very bones clack against each other. The old man crouched deeper into the bush covering him, his emotions akin to a frightened rabbit.

And then it came. A powerful force shook the trees, causing dislodged branches, twigs and leaves to scatter and bombard the old man - who was now positively terrified. Then he heard a screech, a keening sound that hurt his aged ears. That was the last straw for the old man. There would be no curious glance, no sir. He would run as fast and as far away as possible from here.

But before he could even begin to crawl, another wave of force blasted through the area, a great gust of wind that finally caused the beleaguered trees to lose their balance and fall.

Uttering a shriek borne of fear, the old man scrambled with all his might to avoid the falling limbs. He felt his skin break from cuts made by fallen branches and foliage as he blindly escaped his fallen sanctuary.

"Knew you c-c-couldn't stay away."

The old man blinked his eyes as he saw that he was at his spot again, lying prone on all fours. He swiftly looked to where the familiar voice of the stranger had come from, his mouth opening to demand an immediate explanation. The voice died in his throat when he saw what it was that stood behind the man.

Mouth opening and closing mindlessly, the old man broke into convulsions, his eyes fixed on that thing. Fear had paralyzed his mind completely, rendering it clueless to what naturally came next.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure approach, coming with the sound of the crunching of boots trudging over rough ground. Before he knew it, he had shifted from staring at the thing that loomed over him to gazing through a barrel of a gun, held by a hand that was now cocking the trigger.

* * *

Shivering inside the layers of cloth that cloaked him, the man from General Affairs regarded the twitching body of his day companion for a split-second before meeting the raven-haired boy's angry gaze.

"What were you thinking, bringing an outsider to the extraction point?", a deep voice demanded.

"U-u-nfortunate bystander. Well outside est-t-timations. B-but irrelevant, is it not?" the man stuttered as he watched the youth holster his weapon into his Devicer suit and march back to the Morgana. "...D-d-done worse things. To this p-p-point in time." He saw the boy pause for a beat before giving a hand-signal to the monstrous machine, as if communing with the Knightmare.

In response, the monstrous Frame bent its large knees before the youth after a series of mechanical screeches and chimes. The sight reminded the man of a child curiously regarding an insect. After another mechanical wheeze that cut through the crisp twilight air, the pilot's hatch opened, revealing the machine's other devicer.

The other Subject clambered out of the hatch with a sensible grace, and descended the safety lining with almost the same poise as that of a queen's. She was received on the ground with the same airs as the boy, on bent knee, gently caught the girl and reverently helped her on her feet to stand beside him.

It was an oft-repeated pattern: the Devicers rumbling in on the Morgana, fresh from their mission; after which he would give the debriefing and then facilitate the transport of the Morgana back to the mobile laboratory, giving the Devicers ample time to change into their normal clothes.

The deep, powerful voice spoke first. "Subject R. reporting, the target-"

The details of the mission results had grown tedious to the man, but he was unfazed because there was only one thing that interested him about these debriefing sessions.

"...Subject N. reporting, the target-"

In each and every session, his mind took in every detail of the two's movements, gestures, tones, moods, and everything noticeable that they did. Every brief frown, every passing look of concern, even the signs of tiredness around the eyes that he caught from the boy would be filed away; as well as every sign that the girl's body language indicated was taken note of.

This time, as the fading sunlight slowly started to recede from the coast, he ignored the way the wind whipped up his bangs so much, and let his eye _observe_.

_The girl shivered. The boy cast a worrying glance ever so often as he spoke, the domed __helmet dipped, indicating the girl was no longer paying attention to the man, couldn't __see the eyes, so irrelevant, the boy's brows furrowed, fists clenched, his violet eyes __meeting his amber own, a look of defiance, slight, but it was there, the girl's hand __swept up, almost like trying to find the boy's own, but stopped, action unmissed by boy-_

"I expect f-f-full report. As usual. T-today will be early night. Have much to do." _Much to think._The man turned, indicating to the two that he was dismissing them, but he kept his half-lidded eyes on the two still - not wanting to miss even a single moment.

He was not disappointed to see what he wanted to see in just that single space of a second. The girl's body had lost its stiffness, curling up with arms crossed and moving a bit closer to the boy's. _Indicating..._ The boy, on the other hand, had allowed the neutral mask that often covered his face when speaking to someone from the Project to slide off, showing an expression of cold appraisal. _Of what, I wonder..._ His body had relaxed into a arrogant posture, instantly reminding the man of a haughty, contemplating king.

But that instant soon passed as he saw the boy then put his hand over the girl's shoulders before they went out of his line of sight. Unobserved, the man from General couldn't help but let a slight grin cross his features, even as he professionally schooled his face back to laconic dullness. His gaze caught his fallen companion's body and after a beat, he swept off the cloaks that covered his body in a single smooth motion, after which he covered the body casually with the cloth.

The man from General clucked his tongue in annoyance after being hailed by he blinking lights of the light underwater transport that was now surfacing from the water. So much paperwork to do, every single time. _And yet..._he pondered, letting the fresh, cool night breeze caress his body. There was no chance for a smoke, but there was for idle contemplation, the sort that the man hated but had no way to avoid.

"Um...sir?"

He raised his eyebrows in suprise before turning to the lady who'd called at him from the bottom of the Morgana. Conjuring a look of inquiry, he asked, "An addition, little one?" His eyes flicked to the dark-clothed man who glowered at him from a further distance away.

"N-nothing of the sort, I was- I saw you use your coat to cover...And I was wondering, since we have some spare clothes in the pack...if you could use one or two to cover yourself?..." The little slip of a Devicer asked worriedly.

Momentarily taken aback by this random action, the man switched from the girl to the boy and then back and forth for a few seconds before shaking his head.

"I appreciate the concern, but I am fine. Cold never bothers me that much. At night." The man made a few puffs into his closed fist and then rubbed his hands together to emphasize. "Go home now. Dismissed. No business here outside. Home is safer, better, warmer. It is a cold night."

She bowed slightly in acknowledgement, and then walked back to her brother. The man did not take his eyes off the two until after they had disappeared into the shadows of the upturned trees.

His contemplation cut by that sudden interruption, the man from General instead beheld the crouching behemoth that was still there, waiting for the crew to transport it. A slight frown crossed the man's face, as he muttered into the air, "Indeed a cold night."

* * *

Daily Diary:

I'm getting queasy, or something. What is the right word for that?I tried to ask Rimes, but he fell asleep after we finished, maybe next time...It's like this feeling that creeps up on you, urging you to do something important even if your mind knows it's feeling nagged me all day during that special meeting with way he described his prototype...It's quite revolutionary, and if we can finally get the means to manufacture it, we might just be able to outfit the Morgana with the core it deserves.I'm glad for my baby, but I feel that I should have come up with the schematics for that,not some second-rate underling. Almost tempted to convince him that something's wrong with the materials ...so it doesn't go public that HE made the breakthrough if I did that, then I may lose the chance to complete my baby. What to do, what to do...  
Dr. Rouche Aiyme

* * *

Entry Log:

(sneeze)Damn weather's getting too cold for my tastes. Also given me an annoying cold that-(sneeze) GAH! Woman was hinting in the last meeting that her toy will finally be..."old" enough to be able to use some of my railguns...(chuckle) We'll see about that,and it's not like railguns are the by and by for me anymore, it's all about the , big lasers. (laugh)  
R. Valdez

* * *

(as dictated by Dr. Rimes Duran)

So the good missus practically jumped me last night as I was about to record this, so that's why I'm dictating this a day late. Progress has been temporarily stalled, owing to something that she said was desperately needed for something with the Morgana. I let it be, though whether or not it's because of our new relationship...I don't wanna think too much about it. It's been one- almost two years since I last saw the little girl, but the memory is still strangely fresh in my mind. I guess people like that do leave an impact on you - I still remember how the boy looked...

* * *

Personal Log:

...where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it...

* * *

(Extracted from an anonymous web chatlog transcript)  
***User "syorty" has entered the chat.***  
[syorty]: heyllo

[syorty]: ...

[syorty]: hello...

[syorty]: damnit, this month too?

[rollypolly]: hello there

[syorty]: oh hey

[rollypolly]: u should really try checking the userlist before coming in

[syorty]: yeah

[rollypolly]: moment i saw that, i knew it was gonna be like b4

[cat4fite]: yo syorty, i was checking something up

[syorty]: hey

[cat4fite]: more than half the crowd's not here as usual and that PISSES ME OFF

[brass]: hello again syorty =(

[cat4fite]: since I have a bone to pick with ol "ALBIER-THAN-THOU" mr. moderator

[um8sam]: hey sport =)

[Forkover]: hey syorty

[fel3ti3var]: good evening, syorty

[syorty]: hey

[cat4fite]: who took away my privileges for months now

[rollypolly]: you were sorta in the wrong there

[cat4fite]: o rly? like what, for slapping the metaphorical ass he's kissing so well?

[syorty]: and for things like that

[cat4fite]: hav u bozos been too busy with ur own research to listen to the news?

[cat4fite]: studying under a rock 10 meter in the ground?

[rollypolly]: get to the point, man

[brass]: here we go

[cat4fite]: BRITANNIA

[cat4fite]: HOLY

[cat4fite]: EMPIRE

[cat4fite]: OF

[cat4fite]: IS

[syorty]: combo breaker

[cat4fite]: TAKING OVER THE WORLD

[brass]: nice

[syorty] always wanted to try that

[cat4fite]: UR WELCOME TO PRACTICE UR INDIFFIRENCE U DUMB IDIOTS

[cat4fite]: WATCHING THE WORLD BURN

[um8sam]: ouch my ears

[cat4fite]: AS BRITANNIA SKULL-FUCKS EVERYONE IN THE WORLD

[cat4fite]: srsly i know its against the rules or something

[fel3ti3var]: i have to wonder, how do you type those things so fast?

[cat4fite]: but, by any chance,

[cat4fite]: ARE YOU ALL BRITANNIANS IN DISGUISE?

[syorty]: /macro noob =P

[brass]: burn

[um8sam]: back up there cat, that's confidential

[cat4fite]: OH RLY, IF NOT THEN YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY SOME OVERPAID RICH SCIENTIST DUDE

[rollypolly]: you cant call me a britannian sympathizer just because I dont respond to

your childish messages

[brass]: chilllllll

[cat4fite]: NERF BALL

[syorty]: *imagines cat drooling all over his computer, free to rant since caps lock is

ON*

[cat4fite]: NERF BALLS, ALL OF YOU

[um8sam]: i had a cat that was just like that

[syorty]: lol

[cat4fite]: LIVE A HAPPY, NERFY LIFE, SITTING ON YOUR FAT ASSES!

[um8sam]: though it wasnt really drooling...

[fel3ti3var]: *sigh* where's albi when u need him

[cat4fite]: I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW MYSELF

[syorty]: id hazard he went the way of the new guy/girl

[syorty]: disappearing for almost three years, must've been a breakthrough

[cat4fite]: WARANBDKARAELASFNSALG NSDGLNDF:KANFLA:KNFADS:FKLNASDF

[brass]: heh, did we ever find out which was which?

[rollypolly]: nope  
(end extract)

* * *

Author's Note: So ends a long, long, long subphase period. Looking back on it, it took way longer than I planned it out to be, considering that I'd initially projected for the proper phases to start sometime in June. Ah, for time's whimsies... It shall take me quite some time before I start typing up the sequel, though I am pleased to say that I've already written up to Phase Four. The submission may also be delayed if ever my mood next weekend will be more focused on my other fics, whether it's submitting a new one or updating my other ones. To all you (faithful) readers, I thank you for taking the time to peruse this small work. I've temporarily lifted my personal ban on reviews, so feel free to express your thoughts - since I will also be reading the reviews (finally!) and editing in my responses to some questions right here.

Again, a sincere thanks, and if you'd like, look forward to the sequel - which will be linked in here as soon as it's up.

Edit 8/20: Gonna answer a question or two from the reviews (thanks, guys) while I encode an update to an other story:

SomebodySimplyLost: As I've stated somewhere before (I can't exactly remember where offhand), these are the prequel chapters - little stones to lay the foundation for the change in this alternate universe I'm writing for. Believe it or not, I wrote the whole concept for the prequel last, after I'd fleshed out how the Phases would flow out. It may seem weird, but I just couldn't jump straight into the action, without any explanation as to why Nunnally is piloting an unknown mech right in the middle of the Shinjuku Ghetto. Call it my wordy side. =) In addition, I was merely asking on a particular chapter about finding a crossover section in this site for the reason of uploading my other stories, especially one that has been uploaded already. So no, no crossovers here =)

2stupid: V.V.'s already been mentioned once, though he will still remain the shadowy presence for some time.

Malignant: You only matched one name correctly =) I was kind of afraid I'd make the naming thing too obvious...and some of the other usernames aren't really important plot-wise, only one other important OC in a number of OCs. And before anyone asks, yes the subphase ending notes have QUITE some significance for the rest of the story.

krytrus: Still can't see it, but it's fine, I've already decided to put it into a fairly unfrequented section as you will see on the story I've already uploaded. And about the harem thing - I'm not gonna be focusing on that too much in this story =(

Princess Sin and Anonymous: Um...I may have been a bit too vague in that particular scene in SubPhase 19...

Edit 9/11: First chapter of The Lamperouges of the Anarchy up, simply search the site or look in my profile.


End file.
